


Passing Through

by hyperspeed_spacegote



Series: The World Without [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Confusion, Fluff, Gote, Mystery, Older Asriel Dreemurr, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 53,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperspeed_spacegote/pseuds/hyperspeed_spacegote
Summary: It is possible I already had some presentiment of my future.Gene Wolfe (1931-2019), The Book of the New SunAsriel runs a diner, much to his chagrin. One day, perhaps, he might find something better to do...Part 2 ofThe World Withoutcontinuity. Consider beginning fromBedtime Stories, but this entry also mostly works as a standalone until near the end.
Relationships: Alphys/Undyne (Undertale), Asgore Dreemurr/Toriel, Asriel Dreemurr & Frisk, Asriel Dreemurr & Undyne, Chara & Asriel Dreemurr
Series: The World Without [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890637
Comments: 14
Kudos: 17
Collections: The Fanfic Paradise Discord Collection





	1. Lost Souls

_Somewhere, somewhen..._

It was still dark outside, but time would wait for no goat. Asriel blearily changed into a plain black shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. He shimmied into a plain green apron, careful to avoid catching the shoulder straps on his horns. Asriel let out a long yawn, fastening the apron around his waist. Left over right, then under. Right over left, then under. Pull tight. Repeat. Every day. Why did he even take this job, anyway? He could hardly remember even sleeping. Of all the things he could have done with his life, this was probably not the worst, but in all likelihood, perhaps the least eventful. Every day, the same dream, again and again.

Asriel plodded over to the full-height mirror next to the door, hanging on the wall opposite the wardrobe where he had retrieved his clothes from. He adjusted his apron, straightening out a few stray creases, and turned around to check that it was fastened correctly. Once he was satisfied, he hunched to look over his sleepy face in the mirror. Asriel ruffled the fur on his cheeks in an attempt to wake himself up. Perhaps he should've considered moving opening time to an hour later. Oh well, too late for that now. He sighed and shuffled out of his room. 

Taking the last few steps downstairs, Asriel was greeted by the dead silence of the diner. He fumbled around in the darkness with his hands on the wall closest to the staircase until he found the switch. The warm neon lights lining the ceiling behind the counter flickered on, bathing the room in a comforting orange glow. It felt homey, like the feeling of cosying up on a cold day next to a warm fire, swaddled in blankets, watching the tongues of flame dance fitfully. When? Asriel couldn’t remember.

He tore himself from his daydream and glanced at the clock on the wall. Six o'clock, on the nose. Not too much longer until they opened. Asriel drew a breath and gently slapped his cheeks to wake himself up. Best get to it, then.

A quick mop of the floor. Wipe down the counter and the few tables they had. Fill the fryer with oil and bring it to boiling. Heat the griddle. Get the dishes out of the dishwasher. Unlock the front door. Take a rough inventory of the food available. A little short on patties. Noted. Hear the front door open. Rush to lay out the tables. Smile for the camera.

“Howdy, welcome to Grillby’s. May I take your order?”

The door slammed shut as the last few nameless patrons cleared out of the diner. Asriel was left in the company of a wizened old monster who had walked in just as he was about to close up shop.

Asriel sighed to himself. It had been a rather slow day anyway; another customer wouldn’t hurt, or so he had thought. For what felt like an hour he was drowned in a torrent of half-remembered stories of people he'd never met and places he'd never seen, from a time he'd never thought existed. This monster felt familiar and comfortable, like a long-forgotten friend, and had an annoying knack for forgetting the rest of his stories just as soon as they began to get interesting. Still, this was probably the most entertaining conversation he had had in ages— not that that was much of a bar to clear.

The monster scratched the wisps of hair on his chin. “So, young man, have yer ever met the king?”

The question snapped Asriel out of the trance he had fallen into while listening to the old monster’s endless ramblings. He drew a sharp breath and rubbed his eyes, blinking away the comfortable haze that had settled over his mind.

“Oh, erm, nope,” Asriel replied, shaking his head, "never met him, never seen him before."

“Huh. Strange. He’s the type that gets around a lot. King of the people, they say. Even gives presents ter the little kids. Big, friendly guy, golden hair and beard. Yer really never seen him before?”

Asriel wiped down the counter with a worn purple rag. “Don’t know who you’re talking about, sorry. This place must’ve been too squalid for his royal tastes.”

“Ah well, I’m sure he’ll come by at some point. You know,” the tortoise monster said, waggling his fork at Asriel, “he’s an ol’ friend of mine. Spent a lotta time with him when he was a young’un. Trained him, too. My second-best student. I’m real proud’a him.”

Asriel rolled his eyes. “As expected of the great ‘Hammer of Justice’ himself. Best friends with the king, huh. What’s next? Didja go on a date with him or something?”

“Hah! Gotta real sharp tongue on yer, dontcha?” Gerson barked. “Nah, kid, I’m too cheap fer that.” He leaned forward slightly, supporting his chin with a scaled hand and raising an eyebrow. “Why, yer jealous?”

Asriel, who had just started on a cup of water, nearly spat out his drink. “W-What?” he choked out between coughs. “‘Course not. No way.”

Gerson sighed. “Ahh… good times. Well, I’m sure yer had yer fill of my yappin’. So, kid, how long've you been workin’ here?"

Asriel swallowed the last of his water and scratched his head. "I, um, don’t remember, to be honest. It’s felt like waay too long already.”

“Part-timing?”

“Pfft,” Asriel snorted. “Oh, how I wish I was only on part-time. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with both opening and closing this damn place. That’s the worst part of running this diner, y’know. There’s always so much cleaning and prep work to do.”

“Ehhhh, no need to feel so down, kid. Yer get outta here someday, I’m sure. I know it.”

Asriel shrugged indifferently. He didn’t see anything changing anytime soon. “If you say so.”

The old tortoise methodically cut off another small slice of his omelet and chewed on it, washing it down with some orange juice. At the rate at which he was going, the meal would take at least another hour. Asriel groaned quietly, slouching over the dull orange countertop and resting his weight on his arms. His legs were already killing him from standing all day. Asriel’s weariness must have been readily apparent, as the tortoise's face immediately scrunched up in concern.

"You doing ok, kid? Long day?" he asked.

"Yeah… Y'know, the usual,” Asriel said with a long sigh. The days always felt far too long at the diner. Work was monotonous and mind-numbing, day-in and day-out. For the most part, his customers rarely ever talked to him apart from giving him their orders or to complain that their food was too slow. On a regular day, he usually didn’t have any time left for anything but a quick lunch.

"Say, why don'tcha come take a seat over here?" the tortoise monster said. He gestured at the empty chair across from him.

Asriel hesitated.

"Eh, no need to be so antsy. I promise this ol’ coot won't bite." He opened his mouth and tapped on a cheek with his finger, baring his non-existent teeth. "Not that I even could! Gwaah ha ha!"

Asriel finally relented, slowly making his way around the counter. He sat down at the table, fidgeting uncomfortably. The monster reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small, rectangular bronzed tin, proffering it to Asriel. “Mint? You look like you could use one.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Suit yerself,” the tortoise replied, placing the tin back into one of his many pockets. “So, tired of yer job, I take it.”

Asriel raised his hands to either side in an exaggerated shrug. “Could it possibly have been that obvious? Who knew?”  
“Yer wanna talk about it?”

“I have a choice here?”

“‘Course yer do. ‘Sides, yer already did.”

That was not the response that Asriel had expected. Still, for some strange reason he felt obliged to humor this musty old monster.

“I… I don’t know,” Asriel said. “It’s hard to explain. I feel like I’ve been stuck in this stupid job since forever ago, doing the same thing over and over. Nothing changes. Nothing ever changes.”

“How’d yer end up here in the firs’ place?” Gerson asked.

“Who knows.” Asriel shrugged. “A cruel twist of fate, perhaps. Must be karma for having one too many burgers in a past life.”

“Why not try something else, then?”

“This is all I know. I can’t just leave. I don’t think I could do anything else.” Asriel idly traced little stars in the condensate forming on the monster’s cup of juice. “I’ve tried, but I just can’t bring myself to… Pretty useless, aren’t I?”

“Useless? Pshaww.” Gerson waved his hand dismissively. “Nonsense. Yer done plenty. I’m plenty happy right now, aren’t I?”

“It’s my job. I’d be out of business in no time otherwise.”

“Bah!” Gerson exclaimed. “Job or not, yer should be more proud of yerself, y’know. Running this place, all by yerself, that ain’t no easy task. That’s an accomplishment in my book. Food’s great too, always a plus.”

Asriel let loose a little sigh. Accomplishment? He hadn’t felt any of that— anything really— in ages. What good was wiping down greasy countertops and flipping burgers? Nothing, that was what. Nothing at all. Some days he would try a slightly different routine. Right over left first, perhaps. Or sometimes he would choose a different piece for the jukebox. Everything equally useless and equally inconsequential. The old geezer had no idea what he was talking about, did he now? 

His muzzle curled itself into a snarl. “Do you really think that—”

Asriel’s objection was rudely interrupted as the monster reached across the table and tapped his muzzle with a claw. He flinched reflexively, eyes screwed shut. “Hey! Did you have to do that?” Asriel cried, covering his snout with a paw to protect it from further harassment.

The tortoise let out a howl of laughter. “Waaah ha haa! You goat monsters are all the same. Ahh. Just like ol’ times indeed. Some things, they never change.” He rested his right arm squarely on the table before him and stared directly at Asriel. “But seriously, kid, maybe yer don’t find any value or pleasure in the things that yer do. Maybe yer feel like nothing matters at all. But that doesn’t determine yer worth, okay? Yer might not be changing the world, but there’s no need to qualify to _be_. Yer _are_ , and that’s more than good enough fer anyone.”

How did the conversation even get here? From burgers to life advice? “Well that’s what you—” Asriel began.

“And besides,” the tortoise leaned over the table towards Asriel, interrupting his indignant remark, “yer grown into a fine young man, haven’t yer?”

Asriel inched away, taken aback by the sudden proximity. The monster lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper and leaned in even further.

“And quite the looker, I might add.” He gave a little wink and clicked his tongue.

Asriel flushed a dusty pink and shrunk into his seat, but before he could stammer out a retort, the monster flicked his snout with a claw and grinned. Asriel let out a surprised bleat and glared at him from across the table, paw once again protecting his wounded dignity.

“Ha!” the monster thundered in response. In a fit of amusement, he slammed a fist into the table, somehow accidentally sending his fork, along with a little square of omelet speared onto it, flying. They both watched, enrapt, as the rogue utensil soared through the air, clearing the countertop by at least a full two feet as it made its daring escape from the endless monotony of its egg-filled existence.

Freedom, Asriel thought. At last.

The fork landed squarely in the sink.

… Maybe not today.

An awkward silence ensued, shortly before being interrupted by another series of uproarious howls and table pounding. Asriel moved hurriedly to stabilize the orange juice, before it too decided to break from its plastic prison.

“Are you always like this?” Asriel huffed in exasperation, releasing his grip on the juice.

“Well, why’d yer think I never got engaged? I tried with the Queen once, yer know. Got a faceful of her special pie when I wasn’t looking, right clear from across the room. Ahhh. Rejection never tasted sweeter, with a little whipped cream and a raspberry on top.”

Asriel snorted derisively. “I sincerely hope that your absolute lack of shame isn’t contagious.”

“Well, don’t you worry, kid. Just teasing you. Nobody’s good enough for this old fogey! Gwaaah ha ha!”

The tortoise lay down his knife with a clatter, stifling a small belch. He reached for his glass and downed the last of the orange juice, letting out a contented sigh.

“Ahhh. That hit the spot,” he said, wiping down his mouth with a serviette. “Well, I believe I have ter go now. I think I’ve imposed for far too long.”

He pushed his chair away from the table and stood up, grabbing a tattered explorer’s hat hanging from its ear. Donning his khaki headdress, he strolled over to the door with Asriel following just behind. He turned to face him, gesturing with an outstretched hand. “Thanks for the food and the company, kid. Best I’ve had in ages.”

Asriel stared at the wizened, green-scaled paw for a moment before reciprocating. It gripped his own with a reassuring strength.

“Name’s Gerson.”

Gerson? G. E. R. S. O. N. Asriel felt an inexplicable warmth envelop him. It was not unpleasant; it felt… solid, dependable. A half-remembered feeling. Gerson. Somewhere, somewhen, something was missing. Someone he should know? Asriel played with the word on his tongue. Geerrssonn. Gerrrrrs—

“Kid? Yer there?”

Gerson’s inquiry jolted Asriel from his reverie. “Oh. Sorry. Asriel.”

“Asriel? Hmm… Asriel…” For a moment, Gerson’s thick eyebrows lifted, and then furrowed like two bushy, silvered caterpillars. He tugged at his little goatee, staring through Asriel, before meeting his gaze and grinning widely. “That’s a nice name, anyone ever tell you that?”

“No, not really. Why would they?”

“‘Cause it’s true.”

“I wish.”

Gerson chuckled and patted Asriel squarely on the back with a gnarled paw. Asriel grunted at the force of his affection. “Don’t be so hard on yerself, son. I don’t exactly know how yer ended up here, but we’re all rooting for yer. And…”

“And?”

Gerson clenched Asriel’s furry hand even tighter, his gaze suddenly wandering. “And if yer really, truly, here, then somethin’ tells me that we’ll be seeing each other again. Soon.” He looked up to meet Asriel’s perplexed stare with a sad smile, eyes moist, and released the vice grip he had on his hand.

Gerson turned around, leaving Asriel gawking with his outstretched paw caught in the ghost of a handshake. He opened the door. An impossibly cold, impossibly strong wind rushed through it, catching Asriel off guard. With one arm he held onto a nearby table to steady himself and the other he raised to shield his face. His eyes watered from the blistering torrent that cut through his fur and gnawed at his bones. Gerson took a last look at him, his expression first an unreadable mix of emotions, and then a smile. As he spoke, Asriel could just barely make out the words.

“Change the world, little prince. I believe in yer.”

Gerson made a small bow, turned back to face the encroaching darkness, and stepped out. The door slammed shut behind him and the brutal chill ceased. Asriel tentatively lowered his arm and looked out through the small window beside the door, but by then, Gerson could no longer be seen, consumed by the pitch black outside.

Asriel took a deep breath and let it out again. He returned to stand by the table that they had shared and pondered his options. After a moment’s consideration, he leaned over the counter and fetched the fork from the sink, giving it a brief rinse. The omelet lay idle on the plate, cold and defeated. It would have to do.

It was dark outside. Asriel ate quietly, alone in the empty diner.


	2. The World Without

"Heya kiddo."

The short, pudgy skeleton monster had walked in on Asriel as he was clearing the tables left by the last of the lunch crowd. Most of the afternoon had gone by in a frantic blur of grease and ketchup along with a healthy heaping of salt for the mess they had left the diner in. Just another stupid day on the stupid job.

He wore a ragged but comfy-looking hoodie over a plain white shirt, coupled with black shorts and slippers that appeared to have been narrowly rescued from a pack of very angry mice. As he spoke, his words came out in a lazy drawl that made Asriel feel a bout of sympathetic lethargy.

“You run this place yourself?” the skeleton asked.

Asriel let out a small sigh as he collected the cutlery on the table onto a single plate. “Yeah, juuust me.”

The skeleton glanced around at the chaotic mess of utensils and half-eaten food dotting the tables of the diner. “Tough, kiddo.” He gave Asriel a lazy pat on the arm. “Got any good burgers? I’m starving.”

Asriel sighed. He had been hoping for a quiet lunch, but It seemed that today would not let up. “I’ll get you the menu. Just gimme a sec. I’ve got to get these dishes first.”

"Thanks, pal."

Asriel stacked the last of the dishes from the table he was working on onto his left arm and gave the table a quick wipedown, then carefully made his way back to the sink behind the counter. 

He had barely made it halfway there when the door flew open with an almighty slam.

“SAAANNSS!” a voice cried out from the doorway.

Asriel gave a start and dropped the plates he had balancing precariously on his arm. He turned to face the newcomer, fuming. "Goddamnit! Did you have to—"

He was sharply interrupted as the stack of dirty plates rose into view right in front of his snout and scrambled to catch them.

“SANS! We just had lunch! Why are we eating again!” the tall skeletal arrival protested.

Asriel barely managed to catch the dishes as the blue glow surrounding them faded. He clung onto them for dear life. Equal parts confused and relieved, he looked to Sans, who shot back with a wink and a grin. “I told you, bro, I’m still on my second lunch break. Juggling five jobs sure is tough work.”

“Ugh. Fine!” He crossed his arms and shot Sans a stern look, tattered red cape fluttering in the wake of moral indignation. “I’ll just have to accompany you to make sure you don’t end up buying fifty hot dogs again!” 

Asriel shot another look at Sans. “Fifty? Really?”

“Hey, I did sell all of them, no problem. Kids these days really like hot dogs. Or cats. Or animals, in general, for that matter.”

Asriel raised an eyebrow. “Just one of your many occupations?”

Sans grinned. “Yep. I’ve been collecting them.”

“…Uh-huh.”

“So, about that burger.”

“Right, I’ll get you the menu.”

The short skeleton found himself a seat and made himself comfortable, while Asriel shuffled over to the opposite side of the counter and placed the dishes and cutlery in the sink, running water through them. He reached down and rummaged through a drawer to the left of the basin where the plates were sitting. Asriel pulled out a small laminated menu and handed it to Sans, who took a lazy look over both sides. Meanwhile, the other skeleton monster seemed much more interested in the fluorescent-lit jukebox behind the booths lining the side of the diner opposite the stairs, and was poking curiously at its white plastic buttons.

“Y’know,” Asriel said, “I appreciate the save and all, but couldn’t you have put the dishes in the sink instead of dropping them off in the air in front of me with no warning?”

Sans shrugged. “Eh, ‘s too much work. I'm on break."

Asriel inadvertently let out a loud snort.

"'Sides, it's funnier this way," he continued.

A yelp originating from Asriel’s left caused the two of them to turn their heads in his direction. The lanky skeleton had managed to startle himself by pressing something which caused the lights in the jukebox to strobe rapidly.

“Is your friend alright?” Asriel asked, cocking an eyebrow. “He seems like an… unusual fellow.”

Sans shrugged again, shaking his head. “Don’t mind Papyrus, bud. He’s really into human stuff. Every week he drags me to the garbage dump to fish out something or other.”

For a moment, Asriel thought he felt a faint memory stir within him. What could it have been? He wracked his brain for an answer, but could not remember anything specific, just a vague recollection of illicitly sneaking out at night. Whatever. He shook his head to clear it. “Find anything interesting?”

“Eh, mostly junk. Buncha toys, books, comics. Oh, action figures too. He really likes those.”

For some inexplicable reason, Asriel found himself feeling jealous. This job had to be far too tedious and boring if he was having these inane thoughts.

"And what might the two of you be gossiping about, eh?" the other skeleton interjected, interrupting Asriel’s train of thought. He walked back to the counter, having chosen out a rather chippy tune.

“Uh… nothin’, Paps,” Sans replied, tapping a finger to the beat. He glanced through the menu. “I’ll get the number four, with extra fries and ketchup.”

“Sure. I’ll get that started for you.”

“Harumph. You never tell me anything, Sans,” Papyrus complained. “I—”

Asriel cleared his throat loudly. “So, would you like anything yourself?”

“NO. Uhh. Sorry. I won’t be having anything. Unlike my brother here, I have standards. Such as not eating lunch more than once a day.”

"But Paps, I never finished," Sans shot back, producing a bag of fries from nowhere, "so this technically is still my first lunch."

"SANS!"

Asriel left the two of them to their bickering and made his way over to the grill. The pair were loud and annoying but he found himself wishing that they would stick around a little longer.

He fished out a patty and a bag of fries from the chiller and dumped them onto the heated grill. After a moment’s thought, he retrieved another patty and placed it alongside the first one. He hadn’t yet found the time for lunch and the hunger was beginning to get to him.

A few minutes later and the meal was ready. Asriel toasted the buns a little, assembled the burgers, and squeezed the fries onto Sans’ plate. He grabbed a bottle of ketchup and walked up to the counter, interrupting a heated discussion about the existence of self-washing socks.

“Here, your meal.” Asriel placed the plates on the countertop before Sans. The smell wafting from the piping hot burgers made his mouth water. Ughh. So hungry. He plonked the bottle of ketchup next to Sans’ plate. “I wasn’t sure how much ketchup you wanted, so knock yourself out, I guess.”

“Gotcha, kiddo,” Sans said with a wink. He turned to Papyrus. “See, Papyrus, someone here speaks my language.”

"Well, if your language primarily consists of ketchup and oily fries then I'm glad I don't speak it. Nyehh!"

Asriel watched as Sans consumed his burger at a leisurely pace, sauce and juices dripping from his mouth, while the other skeleton berated him for his uncouth table manners. He seemed to be enjoying his meal. Asriel stared at the food on his own plate. It certainly looked appetising enough to eat. Perhaps this time it would be different somehow? He certainly hoped so.

Asriel reached for his burger and took a bite. He would have spat it out had he not been expecting it. He chewed slowly, swallowing hard with a grimace. Papyrus seemed to notice his reticence. He turned to face Asriel with an obvious look of concern, brows— had he had any— furrowed.

"Um… are you okay?” he asked, frowning. “Do you not like your own cooking?"

"Itsh delish," Sans chimed in, "besht ah had shince breakfarsht."

“That’s not a compliment, Sans!”

He gave a small shrug and grinned. “Jusht kidding. Ish great.”

A disquiet fell over the diner while Asriel tried his best to swallow a mouthful of burger. He hastily washed it down with some water before speaking.

“Um. It tastes awful.” Asriel grimaced as the last aftertaste of the patty made its way down his throat. “I don’t know how you enjoy it.”

“No way, it's really good, kiddo. Pinkie promise.”

“Can you tell me what… what does it taste like?"

"Uhh… like burger patty, I guess?” Sans gave a little shrug. “I dunno. Nice and savory. Oh, and a little sweet from the ketchup. Can't forget that. Good stuff."

Asriel picked at the limpid, half eaten burger with a fork. “It tastes like… I don’t know how to describe it. Sand? Dust? Regret? I can’t tell anymore.” He put the fork down gently, cradling his forehead and tugging at his ears with his paws. “It’s awful. I know. What’s wrong with me?”

Sans set down his burger for the first time, while Papyrus stared at him with his jaw slightly open, as if he had begun to speak but the words had already long departed. There was another awkward pause, before the tall skeleton shook his head and grabbed Asriel by the shoulders.

“No!” He slammed the table with his fists. “I, the Great Papyrus, will find a way to fix you! For sure! And! If not! Sans will!”

Sans nodded in agreement, grinning, while Asriel gave them a small, confused smile. “Uh ok… thanks?”

“You doing alright, kiddo?” Sans asked.

“Not really, I suppose. But thanks for the concern.”

“Anything you wanna talk about?”

Asriel huffed. “Well, I don’t know. Between the two of us you’re the expert conversationalist here.”

“Heh.”

Sans worked on the last few bites of his burger in silence while Papyrus seemed to be lost in thought. The tall skeleton rapped his finger bones on the counter in time with the music.

Asriel looked sadly at the burger lying on his plate, half eaten and bleeding ketchup. Should he finish his own meal, perhaps? It was hardly filling and tasted awful, but it was still food. After a brief deliberation Asriel took the plate and dumped its contents into the trash. He rinsed out the last saucy remnants from the dishes sitting in the sink before transferring them into the dishwasher. Who were these people, anyway? First Gerson, and now these two. They felt so familiar. Had he known them before? Asriel scoured his memories for any indication.

“Hey,” Asriel began, “have we met—?”

“I know!” Papyrus interrupted, clapping his hands together loudly. “Why don’t we bring you over to Alphys’ place? She’ll know how to fix you up!”

“But I’m still working and—”

“Can’t you just call in sick or something?” Sans suggested.

“I’m the only one running this—”

"Excellent!” shouted Papyrus, vaulting over the countertop. He snatched Asriel’s wrist and yanked him away from the dishes with a surprised bleat.

“El-fees?” Asriel tried to wrangle his arm out from Papyrus’ grip to no avail. “I’ve gotta—”

“Alphys is the smartest! I’m sure she could figure something out! She’s not the Royal Scientist for nothing!”

Royal Scientist? He had heard, briefly, of the king and queen from Gerson, but what would they need a scientist for? Asriel, resigned to his fate, allowed Papyrus to string him along like a limp dishrag. Sans followed closely behind, wearing an infuriatingly smug grin at the proceedings. With a start, Asriel realized that they had already reached the front door while he had been lost in his own thoughts.

"W-W-Wait! Just hol-hold up—"

Papyrus grabbed the doorknob and twisted it, flinging the door open. Asriel lifted his arms to shield his face and braced himself for the impending draught of darkness.

He remembered how it felt.

The cold, cutting through his fur, slicing through flesh and bone, nearly forcing him off his feet.

Sharper and colder than any dagger.

A familiar feeling…

…?

A gentle warmth embraced his muzzle. Asriel slowly opened his eyes.

Papyrus stood there, back towards Asriel, his silhouette a soft orange glow framed squarely by the open door. Sans walked up to join him.

“Wow…” Sans said, “it’s a beautiful day outside, huh?”

“Where… are we?” Papyrus turned to Sans. “I don’t remember this when we were coming in, do you?”

“Beats me, bro,” Sans said, shrugging. He took a step outside and Papyrus followed.

Asriel’s eyes adjusted to the light, and his breath caught. Beyond the doorway of the diner, beyond the two bewildered skeletons standing under the weathered wooden awning, lay an untamed field of green. A great ball of flame bathed the grass and the three monsters in its orange glow.

Once upon a time, Asriel had heard about it from the books and stories passed down through generations upon generations of monsters. The… Sun, it was called. He struggled to remember what little he could as he moved to join the pair outside, letting the Sun's rays wash over him like a warm rain. It was strange and alien, yet oddly comforting. It was like he was meeting a long-lost friend.

It certainly was strange, taking his first steps outside in what felt like forever. Perhaps it would have been less uncomfortable had it been more eventful. Reality folding in on itself, the meadow before them bursting into flames while the stars fell from the sky, or something similarly apocalyptic would have been apt. At the very least the diner should have caught fire; that would have been the polite thing for the universe to do. Unfortunately, as these things went, impropriety seemed to be something of a speciality amongst his patrons. Not even a shiver or a little tingle running down the fur on his back, not even a ‘congratulations’ accompanied by a knowing pat on the shoulder. Just the unsettling feeling that nothing at all had changed.

Asriel walked up behind the two gawking skeletons. “So, where were we going again?” he asked.

“Welp, I dunno,” Sans replied. “It’s pretty nice out though, isn’t it?”

Asriel took a long look at the scene before him. The Sun was low on the horizon, nearly obscured by a dense covering of trees. The air smelled fresh, and hints of birdsong were carried on the wind.

“Sure is…” Asriel said, letting out a deep sigh. How had he missed such a sight for so long?

Papyrus pointed to a disused dirt path leading out of the clearing they were standing in. Some distance in, the trail turned a corner and was lost in the trees.

"This way?" he asked, but set off on the trail before waiting for an answer.

Sans gave Asriel a bemused shrug, and the two of them followed Papyrus into the forest.

The three of them were quiet as they walked, and Asriel’s sensitive ears picked up just about every sound in the forest. Despite never catching a glimpse of bird or creature or insect, the forest sounded like it was positively teeming with life and energy. He breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with fresh air and the scent of leaves and most soil. Something about it was calming. He felt the tension in his muscles dissolve and his heart quieten from the initial surprise.

Asriel looked around him. The trail was winding and circuitous, leading on a gradual downward slope as it wound through the forest. The path was rarely trodden, the dirt still loose and unsettled. On either side trees grew close to the path, letting only a modicum of daylight leak through the dense canopy. It was cool in the shade of the leaves and not too moist as to make him sweat beneath his fur. He closed his eyes, letting the tranquil atmosphere wash over him. 

Suddenly, a loud rustling of leaves came from somewhere deep within the forest. A twig snapped, the cracking echoing through his brain. Asriel whipped his head to the forest on his left, where the sound had come from, frantically scanning the trees for movement. Despite it still being day, the light grew dim deep into the forest, the canopy casting indistinct shadows in the gloom. He squinted, trying to discern something, anything that might have made the noise. And then, at the edge of his vision, deep in the shade of the trees, a horned figure stood motionless, its eyes two dark pits in its ivory skull watching his every move—

“Sup,” Sans said, waving his hand in front of Asriel. His hand barely reached Asriel’s chest, but the movement was enough to snap Asriel out of his trance. “You there?”

Asriel gasped, eyes cutting to the place where he had seen the stranger. There was nothing there but a thin, dead tree; its leaves fallen and its branches bare. He let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps he had been too anxious about their little trip outside after all. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Papyrus was some distance ahead and hadn’t seemed to notice his little episode. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder.

“Did you hear anything?” Asriel asked.

“Not really,” Sans replied, “just you getting all worked up.”

“Any weird, loud sounds? Like a twig snapping, or leaves rustling?” Asriel immediately felt foolish as the question left his mouth.

“That’s just what you’d expect to hear in a place like this, kiddo. Chill out a little.” Sans shot Asriel one of his signature grins.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Asriel conceded. “I’ve been a bit jumpy ever since we left. Just had a bad feeling about things.”

“Eh, you’ll be fine. ‘s not like there’s anyone around to bother us. Relax.”

Not like there seemed to be anything around either. It was unnaturally quiet.

Asriel stifled his trepidation with another deep sigh. “I’ll try.”

The rest of their journey passed without much incident. Asriel could not tell how long they had walked, but the Sun had begun to set. Just as the soles of his feet were beginning to tire, the forest lining the trail thinned and gave way to lesser plants and flowers, which in turn gave way to the roughly paved roads of a small town. A battered chain-link fence ran for most of the length of the forest and separated it from the town. It did not seem particularly high to him, being just barely taller than the tips of his horns.

Papyrus reached the fence first. At the end of the trail lay a door in the fence. Someone had left a sturdy-looking bronze padlock on the opposite side of the door but had apparently forgotten to actually secure it. The skeleton reached through the gaps in the fence with a bony arm, and after a little fiddling, the padlock fell to the ground with a soft thud. He pushed the door open and stepped into the town, eagerly motioning to his two companions to follow.

“A real human settlement!” Papyrus exclaimed, hardly able to contain his excitement. “I can’t believe we’re getting to see one! Undyne’s told me soooo much about them! This is a human town, right, Sans?”

“Yup. A bone-fide human town. ‘s far as I can tell.”

Asriel rolled his eyes. “What exactly is this doing here?” he asked, as they followed Papyrus’ through the gate.

“Dunno. Doesn’t look like there’s many humans here, either.”

It certainly was quiet, now that Sans had mentioned it. Small shops and houses lined the road that they were on, but Asriel had not yet seen nor heard another soul. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Papyrus, slightly further up ahead, happily whistling an unfamiliar tune.

The quiet syncopation of their footsteps.

The smell of clean, fresh air.

A gentle warmth wafting from the cobblestone underfoot.

The faint echo of insects and birdsong.

A cool breeze blew, lapping at the straps on the apron fastened around his shirt, caressing the fur on his cheeks.

Asriel let his ears dangle freely in the wind. A small smile crept onto his face. Was this what it was like to feel… at peace? Perhaps even... content? He breathed in deeply, savoring the feeling for a little while longer.

The scent of flowers wafted through the air, and he sneezed violently. "Goddamnit."

Sans chuckled. "Bless you."

Asriel sniffed and wiped his snout on a sleeve. He looked around the town again. From what they had just walked through, much of the town appeared to be a residential area, with a few shops and convenience stores here and there. The buildings were mostly wood and brick, interspersed with a few sleeker-looking ones between them. It had a certain charm to it that Asriel did like, but undercutting it all was an uncanny feeling of familiarity which he simply could not shake, no matter how hard he tried.

Soon, the three of them found themselves coming up on a small park, still about a block or two away. As they drew nearer, Asriel could make out a patch of yellow flowers in its center. A plain green sign stood near a break in the neatly-trimmed waist-high hedge wall surrounding the park. “PARK”, it read, in large yellow letters.

Papyrus scratched his head. “I guess… we’re here? Ehehehe…”

“Wherever here is,” Sans replied, “seems pretty cosy.” He inspected the grass before lying down with his hands behind his head, looking up at nothing in particular.

“Maybe all the humans went on a vacation?”

“Heh. Probably.”

The garden itself was plain, but well kept. Trees lined the inside of the hedgerow, providing ample shade for a red brick path that circled the park, and dotted the trimmed grass that covered most of its grounds. Before them was a large rectangular bed of golden flowers, emitting a pleasant, if strong, floral scent that Asriel had picked up on earlier. On the left of it was a humble wooden gazebo sheltering a couple of stone benches, and on its right was a small playground for children and a pair of swings. The wind rose, scattering dead leaves across the garden.

Asriel walked up to the flowerbed, where a large bronze plaque lay on a short, red marble pedestal. He knelt quietly before it, brushing away a few fallen twigs and leaves.

_This park was founded in ____ as a dedication from all of Monsterkind, so that we may remember those whose lives were lost to the Breaking._

A long list of names embossed in bronze followed. Most of them sounded vaguely human to him.

“Hey Sans, did you see that?” Papyrus whispered loudly, pointing nervously to the darkening horizon.

“Huh? See what?”

“I’m not entirely sure? But there was a huge flash of light!” Papyrus gestured wildly with his arms. “And it was… colorful? Maybe?”

“Welp, must have missed it.” Sans pat the grass around where he sat. “Too comfy over here.”

Papyrus stomped his feet and shot Sans an indignant look. “You weren’t sleeping, were you? We just got here!”

Asriel ran his hand over the plaque, brushing the cold metal of the names of strangers against his fingertips. He felt a small, burning pain in his chest, growing only stronger as he reached the end of the list.

_…Delilah Carrington. Ewing Carrington. Jonah Carrington. Aubrey James Richford._

_Chara._

_May their souls rest in peace._

He choked, and his eyes watered.

And in an instant, the pain grew to a raging fire spreading through his chest, and he looked down and saw red, like the crimson of the setting sun, seeping into the Delta Rune crest on his black robes. He peered over his shoulder and saw Sans lying unconcernedly on the grass, Papyrus pointing to the sky, and a small, brown-haired human child who had gone unnoticed standing right behind him. They wore a look of fury of their face, grasping the knife planted through his back, and as his vision failed, he heard them growl—

“Give. Them. Back!”

Darkness took him.


	3. Descent

Falling slowly, gently.

_Cold… So cold..._

“Is that… you?”

_Water? Dim light, dancing above._

“Asriel? Asriel! Oh my god. Gori, it’s Asriel!”

“Asriel? Who… Who did this to you? Asriel!”

_Air… Dark… Sleep._

“No… Asriel, please, you can’t go… Not you, too…”

“How could this…? My children…"

_Who… am I…?_

Choking sobs turned into wailing. A loud, anguished roar erupted from unseen maw.

With a desperate gasp, Asriel opened his eyes and sat up. He was immediately beset by a fit of coughing, his throat burning with each spasm as his body tried to evacuate his insides.

After a minute or so, the coughing subsided and his head stopped spinning. His whole body ached and wanted nothing more than to remain sprawled onto the cold hard ground. Asriel propped himself up on his hands. He looked around.

As his eyes adjusted slowly to the gloom, he found himself sitting on the ground in the diner, dressed in his usual clothes and apron. Dishes and sets of cutlery were strewn all around him, along with a light seasoning of soggy fries. He brushed the salt and a few stray pieces off the lower half of his apron. Had he fainted? It was a minor miracle that none of the plates had been broken.

He remembered the blade going through his back and out his chest. It was too real. It had to be. But how could it have been? There was no longer any pain. Asriel brought his right hand up to his chest and with a start, found his fingertips coated in a dark, viscous substance. He rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger, staining the fur, and sniffed at it.

Oh.

He gave his thumb a cautious lick.

Urgh. Ketchup.

Asriel sighed and with a grunt, stood up shakily using a nearby chair for support. He made his way to the wall closer to the stairs and fumbled around for the light switch while massaging his forehead. God, did it feel awful.

The lights flickered on and the diner was once again suffused in a blanket of cozy pastel orange. Asriel glanced at the wall clock. Six o’clock. Shit. He surveyed the room again, panic setting in. The diner was in a state of absolute disarray and it was nearly opening time. How long had he been out? And for that matter, what on earth had even happened here?

Asriel dashed up the stairs, two at a time, as fast as his weary legs could carry him. They felt leaden, as if he had been walking for hours. He frantically searched through the shelves and drawers of the wooden dresser by his bed. Why were there even two beds here? He really ought to move one of them out… somewhere, when he had the energy. Damnit, where were the spare aprons? He swore he had left some in here. No time. Asriel threw on a fresh set of clothes selected mostly at random, and left the stained apron on the small cupboard beside the dresser before hurrying downstairs.

Pick up the dishes and cutlery. Throw into the sink and rinse. Sweep up the fries. A cursory mopping of the floor. Put the—

A knock on the door.

“Sorry! Hold on for a bit!” Asriel shouted.

Put the plates in the dishwasher. Scramble to wipe down the counter. No time for the tables. Fill the fryer—

“Hello?” The knocks grew louder and more insistent. “Hellooooo? Is anyone there? Ugghh, it’s so hot out here!”

“Yess! I’m here!” Asriel replied, a tinge of exasperation in his voice. “Just give me a moment, okay?”

Fill the fryer with oil and bring it to boiling. Heat the grill. Get the dishes—

“Anybody home??” The door rattled violently on its hinges. “Where’s everyone? Aren’t they supposed to be open by now?”

A second voice. “W-Well uhhh maybe they are b-busy? Maybe?”

“I am busy! Yes!” Asriel exclaimed. “Please! Hang! On! I’ll be right there!”

Get the dishes out of the dishwasher—

“H-Hey Undyne, I-I don’t think you should—”

“Ngaaaaaah!”

Unlock and open the front door—

Asriel was promptly shoulder checked squarely in the ribs by a surprised-looking mass of blue scales rushing in through the open doorway, sending the equally surprised goat flying. He landed with a loud thud, winded and spread-eagled on the wooden flooring. The fish monster had managed to catch herself from falling onto him, instead landing on all fours. Sweat rolled off of her face and black singlet onto his chest. Asriel stared at her, flabbergasted and gasping for breath. For a moment, his eyes met the gaze of her remaining good one.

"Oh. God." Undyne hurriedly stood up, adjusting her eyepatch. She helped Asriel up from his supine stupor and into a chair. "Holy shit, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine, I'm fine," Asriel grunted, waving Undyne away. "Sheesh, what is wrong with you people…?"

A short, yellow monster came hastily waddling in, closing the door shut behind her. She wore a confident dark blue and pink polka-dot dress, which only served to highlight her nervousness as she stammered out an apology.

"S-Sorry! We c-couldn't hear much outside, a-and it was really w-warm out there and the windows were all s-small and f-frosted so I-I couldn’t see inside, and Undyne and hot don't really mix— I-I mean, oh my god, did I just say that, I didn’t mean it that—"

"Alphys, it's fine," Undyne said, “It’s not your fault.” She turned to Asriel. “Yeah. Sorry again. I, uh, don’t function very well in hot weather.”

Asriel sighed and rolled his eyes. “Look, forget it, it’s nothing. Just having a great day, is all." He stood up and walked over to the counter, Alphys tagging along nervously behind him.

She tapped her claws together, making a loud clicking sound as they met. "U-Ummm s-sorry, I couldn’t st—”

Asriel interrupted her, putting on his softest smile. “Just order something, alright? I’m sorry for being so blunt.”

He foisted two copies of the menu into her arms, which proved to be somewhat awkward when the tallest spike on the reptilian monster’s head was just barely higher than his waist. 

Alphys looked like she was about to collapse from either guilt, anxiety, or both. Undyne laid an arm on her shoulder, and Alphys let out the breath she had been holding.

Undyne snapped up one of the menus from Alphys’ arms. “Let’s just get our lunch, alright?” she suggested, shooting Asriel a dorky, apologetic grin while scratching the back of her head with her free hand.

Undyne’s practiced gesture seemed oddly familiar, but he shook the feeling off. “Sure. You can have the front-row seats for now,” Asriel replied, walking around the counter, “I haven’t had time to wipe anything else down properly.” He paused. “Hang on, did you say lunch? I just opened for breakfast.”

“U-Um, your clock’s b-broken? I think?” Alphys stammered out.

Asriel took a long look at the clock. It had two hands, one for the hour and another for the minute. Neither of them seemed to have moved from their six-o’clock position. Odd.

“Huh. That’s weird. I could have sworn it was working. I guess it wasn’t?” How long could he have been out for? Half a day?

“I could help you f-fix it? If you want?” Alphys suggested.

“It’s fine,” Asriel replied. “I’ll figure something out.” A thought occurred to him. “Hey, are you the Royal—”

“Can I get the Country Fried Steak?” Undyne interrupted. Evidently more partial to the food than the conversation, she had been perusing the menu with great interest. She paused for a moment before turning to Alphys. “What’s a Country Fried Steak?”

“W-Why are you asking me? You’re the one ordering it!”

“It’s a human food right? You know human culture better than I do!”

“I’ve h-heard of Chicken Fried Steak before, but I d-don’t know what a Country Fried Steak is?”

“Chicken Fried Steak? How do chickens fry steak? I thought you told me that they were these bird things? Do they even have hands?” Undyne’s eyes widened. “Wait, they do?”

“Well, t-technically I suppose it would be possible for chickens to fry food if they had magic, but I h-haven’t read anything—”

“Hang on, there are magic chickens? With hands?? That’s AWES—”

“NO NO no that was just a h-hypothetical!” Alphys exclaimed, wringing her claws. “Also, I-I don’t know what Chicken Fried Steak is either, I j-just know the name!”

“Oh.”

Undyne looked to Asriel, who had been silently observing the conversation with his best attempt at a poker face. “What’s Country Fried Steak?” she asked, smiling innocently.

“We take the steak, and we cut it up so that looks like a country,” Asriel said, with as straight a face as he could manage, “then we fry it. There. Country fried steak. Easy.” Restraining his laughter was torture.

“Why would you want to do that? Isn’t that just making the steak smaller?”

“Umm. Er. Maybe… it depends on the country?” he said, shrugging.

Undyne turned back to Alphys. “Which one’s the biggest?”

“Uh… Russia? I think?”

“Is there a Fried Steak Country?”

“P-Probably not? There are a lot of countries though…”

“I’ll have a Fried Russia Steak,” Undyne asserted. “Please?”

“One, um, Russia fried steak coming up,” he replied, letting out a little snort despite himself. “Let me just check if we have any Russia in the freezer.”

“Wait, so is Chicken Fried Steak supposed to be chicken or steak?” Asriel heard Undyne ask, as he rummaged through the large freezer behind the counter.

“I don’t k-know! Stop asking me about it!"

Hmm… Australia… China… America… Nope. Asriel pushed the neatly labeled bags of steak from one side of the compartment to the other. Brazil... Canada… Russia. Ah! There we go.

“Looks like we still have some of those pre-cut,” he announced, turning around to face the pair of bickering monsters.

“Do you keep all the countries in there?” Alphys asked. “It seems a bit too s-small for that.”

“We have the popular ones on hand, and there’s a grab-bag for some of the others. The rest I make on the spot.”

“Oh, that m-makes sense? Maybe?”

“Do you want anything to eat?”

Alphys fiddled nervously with the menu, tapping the items with a stubby yellow claw as she read. After a few moments, she finally came to a decision. “M-May I have a cheesy vegetable omelet?”

“Sure, anything else with that?”

“N-No, thank you. That’s enough for me.”

“Alright.” Asriel said, collecting their menus and handing them each a glass of water. “It’ll be a little while before the steak will be ready, though. I didn’t have enough time to defrost them before you all busted in.”

“Eheh, sure, that’s no problem,” Undyne replied sheepishly.

Asriel moved to the griddle to begin their orders, putting the frozen, ostensibly country-shaped steak in a microwave to defrost. Cooking was vaguely therapeutic for him, being a not unpleasant— and on occasion, downright inoffensive— part of running the diner. He buttered down the heated griddle liberally and threw some chopped onions and mushrooms onto it, mixing them with a spatula. Asriel hummed softly, a wordless tune accompanied by the warm sizzling of vegetables. He cracked four eggs into a small bowl, mixing the whites and yolks together with a little bit of water. His chest still hurt from the pummelling Undyne had given him, and the niggling sensation of being stabbed half to death still lingered; in comparison, this really wasn’t all that terrible.

The first drops of egg mixture hit the griddle, its scent mingling with that of the caramelizing vegetables, filling the diner with a sweet, savory aroma. Even if he couldn’t taste it, at least it smelled great. Asriel found a pack of shredded cheese and sprinkled a generous serving over the still bubbling, half-formed omelet.

Gathering her flaming red hair behind her head with both hands, Undyne closed her functioning eye and took a deep breath. “Smells delicious, goatboy!” she yelled over the sound of Asriel’s cooking.

In return, he gave a tired smirk and a thumbs up.

Soon, the omelet was nearly finished. He flipped the neatly folded egg-cheese-vegetable envelope once more and then scooped it off the grill onto a plate. Two slices of buttered toast and it was done, ready to serve. Asriel brought the plate over to the counter where the two were sitting.

"One cheesy vegetable omelet coming up!"

Undyne was the first to take notice. “Food’s here, ‘phys!” 

“A-Ah! Thank y-you!”

Alphys looked at Asriel, biting her lower lip. She looked as if she was about to burst.

“I-If you don't mind, I-I wanted to a-a-ask you earlier…”

Asriel scratched his head. What had he done that could have made her so distraught? “Um. Yes?"

"I-Is that—" Alphys swallowed hard, pointing straight at an utterly confused Asriel, "— is that an original first run limited edition M-Mew Mew Kissy Cutie t-shirt?”

Asriel glanced down at what he was wearing. Big neon pink letters spelling out 'M M K C' ran down his right flank, and a cutesy cat-like monster wearing a smug expression on its face leaned lazily against the typography. It held a stick that had a heart-shaped attachment fastened to its end. From the heart emerged an expanding rainbow of stars that dotted the dark blue cotton of the t-shirt. 

How had he not realized that he was wearing something so ridiculous? The rainbow stars were pretty neat though. Hmm. Maybe it wasn’t all bad… 

He looked up to face Alphys. "Uh, I… suppose I do?"

Alphys’ eyes grew larger by the second, her mouth agape.

“M-May I-I t-t-touch i-it?”

“It’s er, kinda greasy though, since I didn’t wear an apron...” Asriel cautioned, puzzled as to why anyone would be so interested.

He straightened it out over the counter for Alphys, who obliged with trembling hands.

“Oh. My. God,” she said breathily, stroking it gently between the tips of her fingers. “I c-can’t believe this is h-h-happening. T-This is the b-best day of my l-l-life…”

Undyne, who had been watching the exchange with her arms crossed and a look of mild annoyance on her face, let out a stern cough, causing Alphys to let out a small yelp.

“Oh, sorry,” Asriel said, just as bewildered as before, “did you want a go as well?”

There was a short pause, during which Undyne gave Asriel a deadpan glare. His mind galloped with all the speed and grace of a three-legged dog on a treadmill.

Wait a minute… Oh. Oh.

Asriel felt his cheeks grow progressively warmer under his fur. 

The sound of a microwave dinging interrupted his runaway train of thought.

"R-Right on time! I'll just be going to get that, ha, ha…"

Asriel stumbled his way over to the microwave to retrieve the defrosted steak, sweating bullets, all the while conscious of Undyne's gaze burning a hole through the fur on the nape of his neck. 

He covered the steak in batter, patting it down until the outside formed an even coating. Once Asriel was satisfied, he transferred it into the fryer, careful not to get any more oil onto his shirt. A pleasant sizzling filled the air. He couldn't help but overhear his two customers talking.

"Alphys, it's fine."

"B-But—"

"You're just suuuch a dork, I know. C'mere, you—"

The metal of the seats by the counter groaned, and there was the sound of a winded gasp followed by a content, high-pitched whimper. Asriel breathed a sigh of relief.

"— and that's why I love you."

Love? Love. A strange sensation radiated from the place where he had been stabbed, as he emptied the bag of hash browns onto the now well-oiled griddle. He felt like he knew what it should be, but… something was missing. Asriel scrambled the hash browns.

Undyne's voice, loud and confident, carried over the crackling of the oil in the fryer. "To be honest, I was kinda tempted to take up the offer," she said, cackling. "I mean, there's not enough punching or swords or explosions in the show, but it is an original first run limited edition Mew Mew Kissy Cutie t-shirt after all."

L. O. V. E. The letters didn't really make sense, after a while. LOVE. A lone grinning skull, the tips of its sinuous horns lost to the darkness. Huh. The hash browns and steak would be done any moment now. He watched as Alphys dug into a slice of vegetable omelet, strands of stringy, molten cheese stretching and breaking as she brought it up to her mouth. Asriel's stomach growled. Love? Why was it so hard to feel?

The smell of burning hash browns snapped him out of his trance. Panicking, he shovelled them off the griddle and onto a plate, scraping little charred bits of potato into the bin. The steak was next; fortunately, it seemed to have survived his little episode. Asriel doused it in a thick brown sauce and presented it to Undyne, who was already holding a fork and knife in either hand, coiled and waiting to strike.

"Your steak, enjoy," Asriel said.

Undyne poked at the battered steak with her fork, inspecting it on both sides.

"Is Russia supposed to be this… rectangular?" Undyne asked. Alphys shook her head violently.

What was a Russia supposed to look like, anyway? 

"It's an, um, approximation?” Asriel offered.

Undyne shrugged. "Eh. Itadakimasu!" She brought her hands together in a gesture of thanks and proceeded to assault the food with abandon.

Alphys, meanwhile, had only made it halfway through her own meal but appeared to be stuffed. As she set down her cutlery, Asriel took the chance to complete his inquiry.

“So, Alphys and Undyne, right?” Asriel asked, pointing to each of them in turn.

“Y-Yes?” Alphys answered.

Undyne nodded, grunting through a mouthful of steak.

“By any chance, would you also be the Royal Scientist?”

She cocked her head curiously “I-I am, why?”

“Do either of you know a certain…” Asriel tugged on his right ear as he sieved through the events of the previous day, “...a certain pair of skeletons? A tall one, Papyrus, I think, and another short, pudgy one, Sans?”

For that matter, did they even really exist?

Undyne washed down the steak with a mouthful of water. “Yeah, ‘course I do! They’re both under me, in the Royal Guard. Well, Papyrus… less so?” She scratched at the gills on her neck. “Actually, come to think of it... Sans hardly ever shows up for any of the meetings anyway, and I can never find him when I need him... I really ought to dock him a pay grade, huh…”

“Sans helps me out s-sometimes with my work in the lab," Alphys interjected. "He’s a r-really good e-engineer and scientist, although I haven’t seen him in a w-while. Were they h-here?”

“Probably…?” Asriel debated recounting the entirety of what he remembered of that meeting, but decided against it. Not sure what good reliving an assault on his person would do. “They visited yesterday and suggested that I might be able to get some help from Alphys.”

"W-What? M-Me?" Alphys protested, "But I can't—"

Asriel attempted his best impression of Papyrus, balling his right hand and thumping it against his chest. “'Trust me, Alphys is the smartest!' or something along those lines. His words, not mine.”

Alphys’ cheeks glowed a shade of pink that, from what little he had inferred, would have made Mew Mew jealous. “I-I’m not that smart…”

“Hell yeah, you are!” Undyne exclaimed. She turned to Asriel, slapping Alphys on the back. “Alphys here does a ton of sciency robot stuff. Goes way over my head, to be honest, but its all super awesome!”

Alphys whimpered at the force of Undyne’s compliment. “I-I mean, anyone could d-do it…”

“Nonsense, I don’t! Come on, ‘phys. A soul-powered robot! That’s like, totally straight out of that one anime.” Undyne’s proud smile wavered momentarily. “Too bad his personality sucks though. But its still awesome!”

Alphys became flustered. She wrapped her tail around herself and buried her face in it, shaking. “No, no, you don’t know… It’s all w-wrong…”

“Know what about what?” Undyne asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I-I didn’t– didn’t build the…” Alphys began, before breaking off. She clutched her chest, breathing unevenly. “C-Calm down, c-calm down Alphys…” She let out a ragged, shallow breath. “I-I… I c-cheated. M-Mettaton’s not a s-soul-powered r-robot. He’s j-just a g-ghost monster inside a metal shell.”

What was she talking about? Asriel scratched his head, struggling to make heads or tails of the conversation. He caught Undyne’s eyes subtly widen.

“Erm, I’m not quite sure what you did, but the whole thing sounds pretty neat to me anyways,” Asriel chimed in, attempting to placate the hyperventilating reptile shaking in her seat.

To his dismay, her rocking only intensified, the bar stool squealing in protest. “No, no, i-it’s all w-wrong, i-it was a h-horrible idea for me to do any s-soul r-research… I s-shouldn’t have made t-t-t-the a-a-ama– a-ama—AARGH!” Alphys tugged on her tail so hard it seemed to Asriel that it might detach at any moment. “I-I-I caaaannn’t…”

Undyne grabbed Alphys’ hands, forcibly releasing the vice grip she had on her tail. She cradled them in her own and stared straight at her. “Alphys, Alphys, it’s alright. Don’t work yourself up over this. I love you.” Undyne smiled and gave Alphys a peck on the cheek. “We don’t have to do this now if you don’t want to.”

A strange feeling… A twinge of… jealousy?

“I-I have to, Undyne. No more s-secrets, I p-promised her…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll always be there for you, okay?” Undyne whispered, gently stroking Alphys’ back.

At Undyne’s reassurance, Alphys relaxed visibly. She let out a long breath and her quaking ceased. When she spoke, the words came quickly and quietly, but even Asriel could tell that she was fighting to keep them from bursting out.

“I-I made the a-amalgamates. I was doing research on s-souls like Asgore wanted, and we collected monsters that had fallen down to test the effects of d-determination on them.”

Alphys paused to gulp down some water while Undyne supported her back with an arm.

“Amalgamates? Determination?” Asriel asked.

A raised finger to the lips and a wide-eyed, confused shake of the head from Undyne was all he got in response.

“I extracted it from the h-human souls and injected it into the m-monsters, b-b-but t-then they started m-m-m—”

They started what? Human souls? Asriel was starting to lose the thread of Alphys’ rambling confession.

Alphys broke off, sobbing. She sniffled as Undyne pet the spines running down her neck.

“There, there,” she whispered, “we can do this another time, okay?”

Alphys wiped off her tears and blew her nose on her dress before replacing her glasses. “No, n-no, no more s-secrets.” She emptied the last of the water from the cup, tilting her head back to get the very last drops before continuing. “They melted.”

“They what—?”

“Ssh!” Undyne hissed.

“They m-melted and fused together, and became these h-h-horrible g-goopy a-amalgamate… things, and it’s a-all my f-f-fault!” she cried.

“Alphys… Shh…” Undyne began, wrapping her arms around the diminutive reptile, “n-nobody could’ve known how it would have turned out.”

The monsters melted? It was hard to imagine what that could have meant. Perhaps Undyne was more shaken by how upset Alphys seemed to be rather than what she had said? Asriel motioned to fill another glass of water.

Undyne continued with her soothing ministrations. “I don’t really know what exactly happened, but I’ll always be here for you. It’s okay—”

“NO, UNDYNE, IT IS NOT OKAY!” Alphys screamed, swivelling around in her chair. “I did so many things w-wrong that I haven’t even t-told you about, and– and the a-amalgamates, they’re like a-a-animals! They can hardly t-t-talk! I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF THEY CAN FEEL PAIN!”

Undyne seemed taken aback by Alphys’ sudden outburst. Her hands had not left Alphys’ waist but her face was frozen in an expression of surprise, eye wide open and mouth slightly agape, her razor-like teeth no longer meshing. Asriel quickly proffered the glass to Alphys to break the awkward tension, and she accepted it in her claws.

“Thanks,” she choked out.

Something about Alphys’ rant rang a bell. What was it, determination? There it was again, the memory of a giant, horned skull, looking down at him. His head hurt.

Undyne counted out a couple of coins onto the counter.

“Keep the change,” she said. “Sorry for getting you involved. If it’s anything to you, you can come find us at the Lab in Hotland if you need any help.” She stood up and dusted off some crumbs from her blue jeans. “I don’t think I got your name?” Undyne asked, gesturing in Asriel’s direction.

“Asriel works, I guess.”

Alphys spit out a mouthful of water, coughing loudly. Undyne slammed the countertop with a fist, causing the dishes to tremble in fear.

“Hang on. Did you just say your name was ‘Asriel’?” she demanded, her voice low and commanding.

“Yes, Asriel. Asriel Dreemurr. Did I… do something wrong?”

“The Asriel Dreemurr?”

“I don’t know, are there any others?” he replied, exasperated.

“No, but—”

“—You’re supposed to be d-dead!” Alphys finished. “And if you a-aren’t, then… N-No… Oh no…” She cradled her head in her hands, elbows resting on the counter.

“Huh? Dead? Me?” Asriel held his hands before him and looked them over, front and back, clenching and unclenching his fists. He tugged hard on an ear, letting out a small yelp of pain. The fur running down the back of his forearms bristled and an uncomfortable tingling emanated from his chest. 

“Yeah,” Undyne said, incredulous, “Everyone knows the story, dude. You’re supposed to be dead. The humans killed you.” Undyne touched his arm, running her fingers through his fur. “But this is real, right? You’re real? I don’t get it. I must be dreaming?”

Humans?

It is raining.

Humans are surprisingly heavy. The child he is carrying is no taller than his waist, but weighs more than he does. No matter. They have more important things to attend to. The human is cradled in their arms, its eyelids closed. Smiling. He looks at them, and smiles back. Are you happy? Yes, they reply silently. His head feels light and strange.

The raindrops patter against the fur on their head and robes, rolling off the tips of their horns. They curve backwards from the base where they attach to the skull, the long protrusions tapering into sinister points. The pads on their feet cushion their footsteps, as silent as death. He digs his sharp black talons into the ground, feeling the cold soil surround his toes. For a moment, the chill cuts through his uncertainty. This is what he has to do. They are going to save the world.

Was this what he wanted?

I want to help, they say. Please. Let me do this.

Step by step, the end draws near.

“A-Asriel, when I was doing research on souls, I did some e-experiments. I needed to create a v-vessel to contain them. Something neither human nor m-monster.”

It is raining.

Humans are surprisingly heavy. His arms are weak from carrying them and his legs leaden. They are quiet now. The raindrops wash away his tears, running down the pitch black markings covering his face and body. He stumbles as he makes his way through the barrier. It is like drowning in a sea of knives, a thousand deaths stabbing at his soul, but he protects the child's body with his own.

He collapses on a bed of flowers, the child on his stomach. A sickly red oozes from the hole in his chest. He can feel his body losing its form. Answer me. Did I do the right thing? Don't leave me again, please. It's not fair… I don’t… want to die…

“I injected d-determination into the flowers Asgore l-loved so much. Y-You know how they say that when a monster dies, their dust still carries a small p-part of who they were?”

It is raining.

Humans are surprisingly heavy. They don’t seem to get any lighter after dying, either. He pushes back the soil over the grave, patting it down as raindrops coming from the hole above him trail along his vines. It had taken some time to get used to this new body, but it definitely has its advantages. The sweet smell of cinnamon and butterscotch draws near. She is here again, just like every other time. The perfect, irredeemably doting mother to her newly adopted child. So perfect, in fact, that it is as if she has never lost a son in the first place. Perhaps, this time he could try something else…

He readies his vines, and as she steps into the garden, he—

“I g-guess they were right?”

Asriel’s head spun. There was an awful taste in his mouth, and he gagged, heaving into the sink.

“You could’ve stopped them, you know?”

Asriel looked up, only to meet Alphys’ leering visage. “You had all the time in the world.”

“And what did you do?” Undyne sneered, sticking out her tongue. “Nothing.”

The pain in his chest returned. “Stop…”

“And don’t you forget,” Alphys continued in a slow drawl, “the price of each and every one of your sins.”

It crushed his lungs, leaving him gasping for breath. He bent over the counter for support. “Don’t… make me…”

Undyne laughed, doubling over and clutching her stomach. “We know. All of it. Don’t worry, we understand. Misery needs company.” The last few words she said in a sing-song voice.

He clutched at the source of the pain, but his fingers only found an empty hollow where his heart should be.

“There will be a reckoning—”

Asriel stumbled away from the counter, letting loose a primal roar. He arched backwards as countless dark brambles burst from the hole in his chest, dripping in viscous, deep crimson pitch. They stabbed through the air towards Undyne and Alphys like so many razor-sharp needles, twisting and weaving in a deadly dance, until they found their targets—

—lashes out at Toriel, dressed in her purple robes, still holding a slice of pie, face frozen in expression of a surprise and terror as the vines punch through her chest and stomach—

—and then he was back in the diner, seated at a table across from Undyne and Alphys, as if nothing had happened.

They smiled at him and waved.

A warm haze overcame his thoughts. Asriel's hands twitched. He watched himself stand, his hands reaching out across the table towards Alphys, knocking over the glass of water before him.

Warm.

He watched as his claws lengthened, tapering to points and felt as his fangs bit into his snarling lips.

So warm.

His vision sharpened; he could see every detail, every speck of color on the monster’s scaled hide as he wrapped his hands around its throat.

Give it to me.

He licked his fangs, slobbering uncontrollably. The scales chafed against his fur as his claws dug slowly into the warm flesh.

Rip it out.

He watched as they punctured the skin, sinking in like so many small, obsidian daggers.

All the while, Undyne laughed, as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

It welled up around his talons, oozing out from the wounds, thick and bright red, staining the fur on his paws a deep crimson. Surprised, he looked up, but found only empty, bleeding sockets to meet his gaze. The eyeless child in his hands grinned from ear to ear and choked out a hoarse whisper.

"I love you."

Those words. The creature let out an unceasing peal of laughter. Asriel’s legs buckled and gave way. That voice, it cut at him, again, and again, and again. He curled up on the ground beside the table and pulled his ears across his face in an attempt to block it out, but it only made it worse.

"I'm sorry!" he cried. "I'm so sorry! Please… make it stop… Make it stop…"

"Asriel! Hey! Asriel! What's wrong?"

Asriel peeked out from behind his ears. The laughing had ended, though their echoes rang in his mind. All he could see was Undyne and Alphys kneeling beside him behind the counter, fully alive and with all scales intact. Undyne frowned, looking Asriel over from head to toe. Nervously, he glanced around, but there was nothing, no eyeless surprise to be seen.

Asriel sat up with Undyne’s assistance, finally processing that he had been lying in a puddle of water, the glass toppled beside him. He could feel it matting his fur. Arms still quivering, Asriel clutched his head in his paws. "What… happened?"

Undyne shrugged. "I dunno? You seemed sick, then you suddenly collapsed and started screaming.” She looked him over again. “Are you okay?"

“M-Maybe… Please, just leave.”

“You sure about—?”

“Just— Just go,” he said with a sigh.

“Alright, if you’re really sure Azzy—”

“GO!”

Alphys let out a little yelp.

Undyne muttered something to Alphys and the two of them left, Undyne shooting Asriel a last concerned look before exiting.

Asriel got up from the pool of water he was sitting in to lock the front door. He didn’t want to have to deal with any more trouble today. As he stood, he felt an immense wave of vertigo hit him. His strength left him and his body crumpled.

“Is that… you?”


	4. Rain

“Is that… you?”

With a herculean effort, Asriel pried open his eyelids and groggily blinked away the misty haze of sleep. They were still encrusted with the last remnants of dried tears; there was a sting of pain as he forced them apart, an uncomfortable pinching of the skin.

He rubbed his eyes. He heard the crunching of grass underfoot, before a blurry shape appeared in his field of vision. Asriel blinked again. A white-furred goat monster with short horns, wearing a set of purple and white robes adorned with a familiar crest, knelt by him. She covered her stubby muzzle with a hand while the other slowly reached out towards him, her darting, frantic turquoise eyes betraying her panic. He pushed himself up into a sitting position with his elbows and hands, his thoughts a violent, erratic mess.

“Me?” Asriel croaked.

“Asriel? Asriel! Oh my god.” She jerked her hand back and cried out to someone unseen. “Gori, it’s Asriel!”

Her voice sounded strange and distant, echoing one too many times off orange clay and gray pumice. It sounded muffled, the words more felt than heard.

Dancing, shimmering spots of light on the ground undulated in unison. He looked around. A bed of golden flowers surrounded him, drifting and swaying, carried by an unfelt breeze. At one end, upon a raised dais, sat two matching thrones with cushions of tyrian purple inset in a frame of solid gold. Flowering, sinuous vines snaked along the walls. Lining the sides of the room and at its far end, large stained glass windows stretched to the ceiling, drenching the area in a mysterious yellow-orange light. A memory of the chittering of insects and the chirping of birds blanketed the area.

From an entrance at the opposite end of the room, in the direction the goat monster was looking, a deep voice rang out.

“Asriel? Who did this to you? Asriel!”

The sprites of light dotting the room quivered.

Asriel reached for the monster beside him. As his paw met hers, they passed through, trailing wisps of grey and white smoke.

He examined his paw. The pads on his hand were coated with a fine, ashen substance, and it caught in his fur, staining it a light grey. Asriel trailed a finger along it, and sniffed. It smelled like… Like—

—Like a warm fire on a cold day, crackling and snapping at the rising cinders. Like being all curled up and drowsy, swaddled in layers of blankets, listening to the stories of distant places, of verdant forests and endless shores. Like the comfort of a tight embrace after a long bath.

Like the feelings of anger, and despair, and regret, and betrayal.

Asriel raised his head. The monster had vanished, leaving nary a trace behind. He took a deep breath.

Water filled his mouth. He gasped, letting out a precious bubble of air as he sank into a dark and endless ocean. He could see the surface far above, the motes of light now ephemeral and shifting refractions of the amber sky, and he swam desperately towards them, choking as daggers cut into his lungs and throat—

He sat up with a gasp, heaving and coughing. It was dark and quiet. He clenched his fists, ripping out a handful of grass and petals in each. The throne room was empty. No light streamed in through the windows, no sound echoed against its vine-covered walls.

Asriel stood up clutching his head and walked to the entrance of the room, away from its singular seat of power. The flowers were shrunken and wilted, their golden lustre lost to the quiet passage of time.

He passed through a long corridor, so quiet even his padded footsteps echoed. The same ornate stained glass windows lined the walls, the winged sigils imprinted on them casting indistinct shadows. The soft patter of raindrops against glass drowned the walkway in a pleasant white noise. Asriel walked up to one of them, wiping away the condensate with the side of his paw. Through the rain he could see stone paving with houses lining either side. A particularly interesting raindrop struck the glass in front of his snout. He placed a finger on the glass, idly tracing its descent.

Asriel closed his eyes. Fragments of a dream rose from the deeps. A memory of a simpler time, when fate was kind and the one he held most dear never more than an arm’s length away…

It is raining.

Humans are surprisingly heavy, as he is just now so painfully learning. Chara kneels on the small of his back, holding his left arm behind him in a press and pinning him to the mat in the middle of Undyne’s living room.

“Golly, you’re really heavy, aren’t you?” he says. “I heard that humans grow bigger if they eat too muAAAAUGHH—”

Chara releases their grip on his now tender ear. “What say you, O ‘God of Hyperdeath’?” they coo.

Asriel’s cheeks flush a bright pink. “I told you, stop calling me that or I’ll– I’ll—”

“Or you will what?”

He grasps at straws, desperately searching for any out from this humiliation. “I-I’ll… I’ll tell Mom that you’ve been stealing the cookies! Again!”

They turn up their nose at his words. “Nonsense, as if you would. After all, you were the distraction the last time.”

“Hey! You’re the one who made me do that!”

“And you were the one who agreed.”

“That’s like, not even the same thi—”

Chara interrupts, flicking his snout with a forefinger, and he lets out an embarrassingly loud bleat which trails off into soft whimpering.

“So be it.” Chara huffs in disdain. “I shall not be helping you sneak into the garbage dump anymore then.”

He thumps the mat with his free hand. “Hey, that’s not fair! And let me go already!”

Chara pointedly ignores his request, bending over until their head is just above his ear. “Oh, my honored prince, your humble liege deigns to inform you that as of today, they shall be resigning from their pooooos—"

The blue fish monster observing the two children steps in and hoists Chara by the torso off of the ground, packaging them neatly between her right arm and her body. “Alright kids, thaaat’s gonna be enough for today.”

He struggles to sit up. Slick with sweat, he loses his balance on the mat and flops spread-eagled onto it. An exhausted sigh escapes him. “So how’d I do?”

“You’re improving fast, that’s for sure. But sometimes you forget your basics. Remember, when you land, you’ve got to assume the correct break fall position.”

Asriel beams at the compliment anyway, feeling rather full of himself.

Undyne gestures with her free arm. “Like this, arms straight out in front of you, parallel to the ground, keep your palm flat open and fingers together.” She makes a striking movement with her whole arm. “Slap the ground hard when you land. Stick your arms out a bit further if you have to, to compensate for your muzzle. I don’t want to see any more faceplants from you, got it?”

Those were indeed rather painful. Chara sticks out a tongue at him while he nods eagerly. His fluffy ears flop back and forth.

“Yes, Captain Undyne.”

“And you,” she says, glaring at the kid flailing wildly in her grasp, “you catch on real quick, as usual. But I’m gonna have you stop bullying your brother, understood?”

“And why exactly should I—”

Undyne’s yellow eyes narrow to slits and her voice becomes a low growl. “If you dare pick on your brother again, I, the Captain of the Royal Guard, will personally report your cookie-stealing antics to the Queen herself. Capiche?”

Chara’s struggling ceases. He thinks he sees them swallow nervously before putting on an indifferent front, turning up their nose at Undyne.

“As if you would tell.”

Undyne pincers Chara’s face between her thumb and fingers, squeezing their cheeks. She tilts Chara’s head, forcing their eyes to meet her glare. “Don’t test me, punk.” She gives Chara’s head a little shake.

Chara huffs through puckered lips. “Fhine, hathe ith your way.”

Undyne releases her grip on Chara’s face and they spit air. “You promise?” Undyne asks.

“I as much as said so in my previous—”

“Chara…” Undyne says, the threatening edge returning to her voice.

“Fine. I promise.”

“Promise what?”

Chara sighs loudly. They place their open palm over their heart and attempt to put on dignified airs, insomuch as one can while being holstered horizontally four feet above the ground. “I, Chara Dreemurr, do so solemnly pledge, that I shall, from this day onwards, for the foreseeable future, ‘til death do us part, et cetera, never ever bully my dear sweet precious adorable fluffy gote brother prince, Asriel Dreemurr, on pain of excommunication, exsanguination, and/or grounding.”

His left eye twitches. “Hey! I’m not that… er… fluffy?”

What’s an examgrination, anyway? Chara keeps using big words and long sentences to confuse him, and he is not pleased to admit that it usually works.

Undyne snorts at Asriel's remark. "'Course you are." Turning back to Chara, she adds, "Good. I'll hold you that."

“When you're looking, at least,” Chara mutters.

Undyne plops his sibling down into a chair, and he gets up to sit beside them. She claps her hands together, grinning wide enough to show every one of her teeth. “Nice work kiddos, you learn fast. Both of you go cool down and wash up now, and… I guess I’ll have you wait here until the rain stops. Are your parents coming to pick you up today, or was I supposed to escort the both of you back this time? I kinda forgot which one it was.”

Chara shakes their head before he can respond. “They told me that they were going to be busy today. They had to attend a planning meeting for some big event or other.”

Undyne scratches her gills, cocking an eyebrow at Chara. “Planning for a big event? If the queen’s showing up, it must be big. Doesn’t she normally let Asgore front the meetings? What about the security detail? Nobody told me anything about any event…”

“Yeah!” Asriel pipes up. “When they dropped us off here, Mom had her big fancy purple gown on, and Dad was wearing a really nice black suit, and—”

“Wait…” Chara says with a frown, rubbing their chin.

“—and they were carrying this reaaally big bottle!” He stretches out his hands in front of him to demonstrate its extent.

“A big… bottle?” Undyne asks.

“A really big one! They said it was fruit juice but I couldn’t have any.” He gives a little sulk.

Undyne’s face lights up in understanding, and she smacks her left palm with her fist like a gavel. “Ah! I remember now. Asgore, er, filled me in last week.” She grins. “You know what, your lesson went really long today. It’s a real shame, but you all are gonna be getting back pretty late, if you catch my drift.”

“But we ended early—”

“No, Azzy, we did not,” interjects Chara.

His eyes widen and a smile slowly grows on his face. He giggles.

“We’ll decide what to do later,” Undyne says. “Go clean up, you dirty little punks.”

“Thanks Captain Undyne! You’re the best!” Asriel runs towards her and throws himself around her waist, and Undyne squishes him in a tight hug.

“Cool,” Chara says. They seem to be more interested in studying the rain outside.

Asriel looks up at Undyne. “What are we gonna be doing next week?” he asks, excited.

“Hmm.” She ponders for a moment before holding up a finger. “Ah! We’ll be going over the basics of disarming a humanoid attacker at close range.” Undyne flips him around, giving him a rough noogie between the horns. He bleats in delight. “Hit ‘em where it hurts!”

Chara crosses their arms and sulks. “Hmpf. And you just told me not to bully him.”

She sticks out her tongue. “You’re the one with the restraining order.”

“Says you.”

“That’s right. Now get moving, kids, or you’re gonna be showering out in the rain!”

After some stretches, he and Chara take turns washing themselves down in the guest bathroom while Undyne takes a long shower in the one in her room. At the king’s behest, despite her objections, her house in the capital is a rather spacious one just a couple of blocks away from the palace. It has a sizable living room where they train. In it a long sofa lines one wall, and on the opposite side is a huge television as wide as he is tall. The kitchen is just beyond the dining area attached to the living room, and on its right are two bedrooms and a guest toilet. He once asked Undyne who the other bedroom was for, but apparently Asgore had foisted it onto her ‘just in case’. For the most part it is left vacant and unattended to; he has never seen anyone else in her house before.

Being the first to finish, he amuses himself with some of Undyne’s comics while waiting for the others. She has a small but steadily growing collection, some of which she found in the garbage dump. Those invariably seem to be the more interesting ones, with their bright colors and cool people dressed in fancy outfits with big swords and robots. As he reads, he wonders why the monsters have not made anything as cool as the humans did.

Before long, the fish and the human emerge from their showers, Undyne shortly before Chara. She takes a seat next to Asriel on the faded red leather sofa.

“So, what are we gonna do?” Undyne asks, as Chara walks out of the bathroom while drying their hair with a towel. “I found a new show from the dump that we could watch. ‘Code Gears’, I think it was? Looks like another of those giant robot fighting shows, if the both of you are up for it.”

Asriel sulks. “Can we do the adventure game this time? We already watched that show you wanted last week. Please?”

“I did read through the adventure, but that was like two weeks ago now and so it’s going to be real rough…”

He pouts exaggeratedly and gives his best puppy-dog eyes while Chara rolls their own at his expression. “Pleeeeaaaaaassseee?”

Undyne sighs before wrapping an arm over his shoulder. “Ugh, you’re waaay too cute. Fine, fine, you win.” She pulls him into a tight hug, ruffling the fur on his head.

He giggles and she tickles him, prompting a round of uncontrollable snorting.

“Are you two done yet? Can we begin?”

The tickles cease and he looks up to see Chara standing just beside him, their arms crossed with a dark blue towel draped over their left shoulder and their expression deadpan. They look down at him and tap their foot impatiently.

“Chill out, bucko. Need a hug too?" Undyne beckons with her free arm and pats the empty seat beside her.

"No thanks."

“Ahhh, fine. Suit yourself.” Undyne gives him one last squeeze and releases him. “Let’s move to the dining table. I’ll go get the stuff.”

The three of them set up at the table, with Undyne at its head. Chara had been the one to find the rule books, and had initially been the one running their games. As soon as they started lessons with Undyne, he had roped her into playing with them and she had eagerly obliged, acting out her character’s actions with great gusto and the occasional broken chair. Chara complained about always having to run their campaigns, and so the three of them eventually settled on rotating the game master after each session.

Today, Undyne is their reluctant host, while Chara plays their high elf rogue and Asriel gets to be his favorite dragonborn mage. The adventure begins simply enough, with the two travellers finding their way to a tavern where they were to have a meeting.

“It is a gloomy afternoon in the harbor town of Silvertide,” Undyne narrates, reading from the book she hold behind the piece of cardboard she uses as a screen. “Mirthal and Starfang sit at a table in the Crossroads Inn, biding their time before the mayor arrives to discuss the details of the murder investigation that the two of them were hired for.”

“What’s a harbor?” he asks Chara, as Undyne sketches out a floor plan of the inn on the big piece of paper on the table.

“A place near the ocean deep enough to anchor boats in.” They draw a U-shape on the table with their finger. “Usually in this shape, because it helps to protect the ships from waves and inclement weather.”

“Have you been to one before?”

“No, I just read about it in a book. Besides, the ocean is nothing special anyway; the underground sea in Waterfall is much more interesting, really.”

“I suppose so…”

Chara turns to Undyne, who has just finished her drawing. “You may continue.”

“Yeess, your highness,” Undyne says. She snorts and rolls her eyes. “The innkeep has gone into the kitchen to do some stocktaking, so the tavern is empty except for the two of you,” she says, pointing to two coins on either side of a square which he assumes is a table, “and a suspicious-looking human stranger sitting in the corner who seems to be staring at you.” She points to a grey pebble at the edge of the paper.

Chara picks up both coins and places them down in front of the rock. “Mirthal and Starfang walk over to the—”

“Hey, I wanted to do my thing!” he whines.

“There was not much of a choice in the first place,” Chara counters. ”You were going to talk to the stranger anyway, so I was just saving everyone some time.”

“I-I mean yes, b-but—”

“I am right, am I not?”

“Chara,” Undyne growls, “we’ve gone over this before. And stop being mean to your brother.”

“Fine.” They replace his token by the pencilled rectangle. “Mirthal, and not Starfang, approaches the stranger.”

Not having any better ideas, Asriel moves his coin to sit beside Chara’s. “I follow closely behind my friend to listen in on the conversation,” he says.

"Told you so," Chara whispers under their breath. “If the overly conspicuous stranger turns out to be the murderer, I am going to be extremely dissatisfied,” they declare loudly.

Undyne continues unperturbed. "The stranger looks up at the two of you." She makes her voice low and raspy. "'Whaddayer want?'"

"'Nothing, we were just wondering what you were up to,' Mirthal says."

"’Mind yer own business and go back to your seat.’”

“‘Mind your own business?’ Mirthal snorts. ‘Mind _your_ own business and quit staring at us from across the room. You could not be more suspicious even if you tried.’”

“‘Leave me alone kiddo, this is your last warning.’”

Chara puts on their most offended tone. He cannot tell if they are acting. “‘You are talking to a high elf, a member of a species that lives ten times as long as yours. Mind your manners and watch where you spit, pathetic human.’”

“Now who are _you_ calling pathetic, huh?”

“‘As expected of a human. Sadistic, spiteful beings, lashing out at whomever, whenever. You are enjoying this, are you not?’”

“You looking for a fight, punk? I’ll give you a fight.” Undyne growls.

Asriel watches the exchange with increasing consternation. Undyne is standing now, leaning over the flimsy cardboard screen and glaring daggers at Chara, who meets her gaze with a smirk. He slowly edges his chair away from the table.

“Mirthal towers over the stranger. He grabs them by the collar and yanks them off their seat. ‘Say that again to my face, I dare you.’”

Undyne bares her razor-sharp teeth. “Put me down, kiddo, or you’re gonna regret it tomorrow.”

“H-Hey, erm, can we not actually fight?” Asriel whimpers. “Please…?”

“‘Ha! Try me, worm. You think you can best me?’”

“You… NGAAHHHH!”

A mighty crash erupts from the dining room as Undyne slams a fist into the table and it splinters in two, straight down the middle. He yelps and falls backwards off his chair as the tavern collapses and Mirthal and Starfang are swallowed up by a rift torn in the paper-thin veil of reality. Pebbles and coins and dice are scattered all over the floor. Undyne freezes, at a loss for words, while Chara merely seems mildly disappointed.

“Oops,” Undyne says.

Asriel sits up, rubbing his back and surveying the scene of destruction before him. “Uh… M-Maybe we can just watch the show instead? Ha ha…”

“Erm, I’ll, uh, clean up and figure out where I kept the recordings.” She scratches her head. “Heheh… Sorry about that. I’ll find some way to make it up to the two of you, next time.”

“I’ll help you,” he suggests, feeling sorry for Undyne all of a sudden.

“No, there’s too many splinters lying around. It’s my fault, anyway. The two of you just wait in the living room, okay? I’ll go find a broom.”

“Just let her do it, Azzy,” Chara says. “Come now.” They drag him away from the wreckage of the dining table.

As Undyne sweeps up the mess, the two of them sit by the window drawing shapes in their breath while watching the raindrops trail down the frosty glass. He stares at Chara. They are busy tracing the path of a particularly large droplet with a finger as it makes its way down the window, consuming the smaller droplets in its path with its insatiable appetite. Humans are so strange, with their oddly-shaped heads, and their incredible weight, and their minimally-furred skin. Chara lets out a tired sigh as the raindrop veers to the right and rolls off the side. They tap the glass with a fingernail in no particular rhythm.

After a while, Chara notices his gaze and they stare back, amber pupils meeting crimson.

“Yes?” they ask.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm… fine. Mostly."

"You seemed… kind of upset today. More than the usual."

Chara's finger draws spirals in a misty corner of the window. "Sorry for being snippy earlier. I’m just… not in a good mood today."

"I see." He knows better than to pry further.

He draws yet another star, watching the rain pour down from the unseen ceiling above.

“Sorry for ruining your game,” Chara says, breaking the silence. “I know you like playing Starfang a lot.”

“Um, it’s fine, Chara. I don’t think either of us expected that to happen.”

A twinge of guilt flashes across their face. "Let’s just stop rotating. I should be the game master, everyone’s happier that way.” They pause for a moment. “Including me, I guess.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s fine, Chara, we’ll keep doing it.”

“No, Azzy, it’s not.” They give him one of those looks which he has learned means they are dead serious.

He returns to watching the raindrops.

After a while, Chara turns to them again.

“Race?”

“Okay,” he says, eager for anything to end the uncomfortable silence.

They stand beside each other, facing the window.

“From this high at least,” Chara says, pointing at a spot on the glass around where their forehead is. He is roughly the same height, if slightly taller.

“Alright.” He readies himself, eyes scanning his half of the window as fast as he can for the ideal candidate. There! He begins the countdown. “Three, two, one… go!”

He tracks his chosen representative with a furry finger of his own, silently urging it along. Chara pulls ahead; from the corner of his eye he sees that their nominee is reaching somewhere around his chest level, while his has only reached his neck.

A little bit to the left… Yes! His raindrop merges with another, larger one, and it begins an unstoppable rampage, swords drawn and whirling, slicing a path through its aquatic foes. It makes a beeline for the base of the window, and he can finally see himself beginning to outpace Chara. In his mind, he can already hear the whirring of blades and gaze upon the faceless, shapeless hordes thronging before him…

_My enemies outnumber me, a hundred, nay, a thousand to one, but I, Asriel Dreemurr, God of Hyperdeath, stand resolute, a shining beacon of power blazing in the darkness._

_I race across a transparent plane, the sky a clear blue beneath me. I feel the wind below my padded feet as I cut through the goons the Viceroy of the Void throws at me. With my twin blades, Sol on my left and Luna on my right, I am a spinning, dancing whirlwind of death. Nothing can stop my advance. My enemies form a small clearing around my whirling blades, darting in and out, trying to get their filthy claws on me. No matter. Their claws may be sharp but my bite is sharper. I charge ahead, fangs bared, tearing a path through the horde faster than they can close in behind me, assimilating their life-force as they fall._

_One of them ducks in from the right and takes a swipe at my legs. I hop deftly over its attack and pound downwards with a foot, smashing the creature’s head into the ground. I know it is not dead, but still I push onwards. As Luna cuts through another swathe of voidlings, I toss it down and back, trusting my aim to be true. It plunges through the fallen void-touched’s back, and I hear it scream in agony. I laugh, and the creatures around me hiss and spit in their senseless rage._

_Another breaks through, this time on the left, slipping through Sol’s defenses as the sword swings outwards. It lunges at my neck with its jaws, but mine are faster. With the momentum of my swing, I rotate my body, shifting my left foot behind my right, and I lean back. Its snapping mandible misses my face by a strand of fur. For a moment, I can feel the hot breath from its snout touch my face, and see its gnashing teeth, razor sharp and glazed with sputum. I open my mouth wide and swing my head forward, biting down hard. It shrieks in pain as my fangs punch through its flesh, into its shoulder. In the same motion I ball my empty right fist and tear it through the air, smashing into the hapless creature’s chest. It goes flying, crashing into the formless beings behind it before turning to dust._

_The masses heave and close in on me again. I can tell that I am close. I let out a mighty roar. Prismatic bolts of light cascade all around me, striking down from the stars above. When it finally settles, molten glass and piles of dust surround me. Far to my left I see Chara, ducking and weaving through the dark, ever-shifting creatures, silent and graceful. They eviscerate their foes with their obsidian daggers in a mesmerizing dance, never long enough in one place for their enemies to even think of attacking. Their skill is whispered of in legend, their finesse beyond even my ability to replicate— but sometimes the savage wins the race. Not today, old friend. Victory is near, and I can smell it._

_I summon Luna back to my side. The two incandescent scimitars are reunited, blazing with the light of the stars. A humongous, twisting beast blocks my way, countless legs and arms and jaws kicking and snatching and biting. Behind it, on a raised platform, I see the Viceroy, a dark, horned being dressed in purple robes, his face lost in shadow._

_This is it. I ready my final attack. A cold wind blows against me, my black robes billowing majestically and my breath leaving behind white trails. Behind the Viceroy, a giant skull with the horns of a demon emerges from the endless dark— the world-eater itself, Hyper Goner. A wicked laugh sounds from his shrouded visage, yet I smirk. Does he really think that I only have two swords? Gripping Luna tightly, I raise my right hand. As it reaches its apex, a boundless array of glowing blades materialize, hanging in the air behind me. An edge for every star in space. The Viceroy's laughter ceases, and I see him quake in fear at the impending onslaught. I stand before my army, Luna held high, and I cut it forward—_

An iridescent blue echo flower carried by a breeze strikes the window where his raindrop is. He lets out a bleat of surprise, his daydream shattered.

“I win,” Chara declares, their finger reaching the windowsill.

“B-But I—”

“Cut down by a flower. Better luck next time.”

He grumbled. “How are you so good at everything? You’re smarter than I am, you’re stronger than I am, and now you’re even luckier—”

Chara places a silencing finger against his snout. “No. Please. Don’t say that.”

He lets his eyes fall, gazing down his muzzle. "Sorry."

Chara withdraws their finger and fiddles with their thumbs, staring at the ground. It is a while before they speak.

"One day, I'm sure you'll be smarter, stronger, maybe even heavier than I am," Chara says, their tone subdued.

"How'd you know?"

"Just look at Dad. He weighs a ton and hits like a truck when he's sparring."

"But—"

Their voice begins to break. "And Mom too. She's intelligent and resourceful, and she keeps the kingdom r-running mostly all by herself. And she’s so… nice to me…”

"I guess, but just because they're all those things doesn't mean—"

Chara grabs him by the shoulders, hands trembling. "Asriel. Listen. I might have only been here for a year, but I know, I just know that you really, truly, are the best of them. Even if you think you're n-not strong, or smart, or lucky, you're still soft, and kind, and s-sweet, and funny, and you've got everything that you could want— e-everything that I could want— and… and… I-I'm… jealous…

“I'm so jealous that you have so much, that you could be anything one day, the King of Monsters, the A-Amazing Asriel, or even the s-stupid edgy G-God of Hyperdeath, and m-most of all, that you have a f-family that l-loves you sooo soooo much, but you always t-treat yourself like this, while I, I'll always be… just… n-nothing…"

Chara buries their face in the fur on his neck, sobbing. For a moment his mind is blank and he does not know what to do, but he returns their embrace, wrapping his arms around them. He strokes their hazelnut hair gently while their tears flow freely into his fur, rolling down his shirt, like raindrops on a window.

He waits for Chara's crying to cease and their shuddering breaths to return to normal, before he ventures a question.

"Do you want to talk about what happened… before?"

A slow shake of the head, still lodged in the fur between his shoulder and neck.

"Okay."

They sit there like that in silence, listening to the tapping of rain on the windows and shingles of the house. From the living room, they can hear Undyne whistle as she rummages through her room for the tapes.

From the hole in the Ruins, to the barrier just past the Throne Room, a strange wind howls through the Underground— the last lament of monsterkind.

Chara lifts their head. "I still can't believe they let us have sparring lessons with Undyne," they say with a smile, their ruby-red eyes sparkling with tears.

He smiles back, softly. "I pestered Mom for weeks on end about it. They trust Captain Undyne a lot."

They nod. "She's a good person."

"So are you."

Chara seems to be on the verge of tears, but they hold them back. "Thank you," they whisper.

The sound of rain and Undyne's sprightly whistling fills the house. He thinks he might have heard it somewhere once, in a show of some sort. He combs down Chara’s neck-length hair with a paw and they give him another smile.

"Are you still going to help me get into the garbage dump? I kinda want to find another issue of Magical Cat Nanoha or whatever it was."

"A good person wouldn't do that," Chara says, their voice low and gentle, "but a best friend would."

"Thank you.” He pauses for a moment. “I'm so lucky to be your brother."

Chara smiles.

Asriel opened his eyes.

He drew a deep, ragged breath. It felt like waking from a dream.

The drop that Asriel had been following had long since rolled off the window, lost to an ocean of rain.

Where had you gone, Chara?

He traced the trail the raindrop left in its wake, all the way to the bottom.

"Not today, old friend," he whispered. Asriel smiled to himself, his eyes moist. He let his fingers tap the border of the stained glass. "I win."


	5. Reunion

The corridor brightened as Asriel walked, the tireless sheets of rain thinning with each step. Halfway through the hallway, the rain petered out to a light drizzle, and by the time he approached the end of the passageway it ceased entirely. An ornate wooden door stood before him, the same winged sigil embossed on its halves. He paused for a moment before pushing them open.

A bright yellow light streamed through the widening crack in the door, accompanied by a rush of warm, humid air and the sound of insects chirping. Asriel stepped out and onto the stone-paved path leading away from it.

The path led through the gap in a waist-high hedgerow, and into a small garden filled with neatly trimmed bushes and rows of flowers. A quaint house stood before him, a familiar scent wafting out from within. 

He knocked on the door. “Hello?”

No answer.

Asriel looked over his shoulder, but the strange passageway that he exited from had vanished. Behind him was a road and some plain-looking residences much like the ones he had seen while accompanying the two skeletons. A perfectly ordinary human settlement, if that was any measure to go by.

He tried again, knocking louder this time. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

A muffled clattering of pots and pans was his only answer.

The humidity was starting to get to him. A glistening laminate from the passing shower lay over the entire area, shimmering diamonds under the sunlight. He was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm and musty in the stifling, dank air.

As he raised his arm to knock for a third time, Asriel felt a sudden wave of trepidation wash over him and he froze mid-motion. What was he even doing? He hardly even knew where he was, but now was demanding entrance to a stranger's house?

Asriel shook his head. No. The dwelling was familiar to him, if in an unfamiliar setting, and he knew with certainty that it belonged to no stranger. That made it all the worse. His gut twisted in agony. Half of him wanted to burst through the door, shouting "I'm home!", while the other half wanted to curl up into a ball and hide in a corner somewhere. But it had to be done… right? Asriel gathered his strength, willing his paralyzed arm into motion.

There was a shuffling of feet and the door opened just before his hand reached it. Standing in the doorway was a boss monster with short horns, dressed in a lilac gown and checkered orange and white apron. Her eyes widened at the sight of him and a mittened hand covered her mouth, but before long, a gentle smile replaced her shocked expression. From inside the house a quiet melody rose, its notes plaintive and nostalgic, resting upon a velvet wash of static and the muted crackling of logs in a fireplace.

“We were told to expect a special guest today…?” Toriel said. She took one hesitant step towards Asriel and then another, slowly extending her arms before her.

Asriel stood there, unable to move a muscle as Toriel approached. He felt her arms around him, the weight of her head resting on his shoulder, the scent of her baking clinging to her fur. It was soft and smooth to the touch.

“Welcome home, my child…” Toriel whispered.

Images of thorns and dust and hate and jealousy flashed through Asriel’s mind. His breath caught and he froze, stiffening in Toriel’s grasp. He tried to reciprocate her embrace, but all strength had left his arms and they hung limply by his side. As he rested his muzzle on her shoulder, his heart ached as if pierced once again. How could he deserve this? They didn’t know, did they?

“We missed you so much… Asriel.”

But the pain and doubt faded as he breathed in, filling his lungs with the smell of butterscotch and cinnamon. Rich and sweet, it was the familiar scent of home. Asriel relaxed, letting his mother’s warmth fully envelop him.

After a fleeting eternity, Toriel withdrew from the hug with moist eyes and a sad smile on her face. “Come in, will you not?” she said.

Asriel stared at the ground, shuffling his feet. His frown deepened. “I don’t—”

Toriel stretched out a hand, interrupting him. “Please?”

He stared at it. It took a while before he found the courage to take it in his own. “Alright.”

It hurt. It hurt to be treated so… nicely. It hurt to be this close, yet so far away. Was this how Chara always felt?

Asriel let her lead him into the house. Everything was just as he remembered. The wooden flooring, the corridor leading to the bedrooms, the stairs leading to the basement— everything was in its place. He followed Toriel into the living room. The fireplace bathed the room in a warm orange glow, not unlike the lights of the diner. A small radio on a dresser to the side of the room played the melody he had heard earlier.

“Asgore is just out minding the flowers, he should be back shortly. Let me get the pie out from the oven.” Her voice was troubled.

“Okay. Thank you.”

Asriel sat down stiffly by the dining table. He saw a twinge of concern cross Toriel’s face as she looked at him before heading to the kitchen.

A neatly folded newspaper lay on the table beside the cutlery. “Monsters Amongst Us!” the headlines proclaimed. There was a photo of a bulky-looking goat monster dressed in royal garb, shaking the hand of some human diplomat. A small child tailed behind them. “Ten Signs Your Neighbor Is a Monster”, another article read.

His browsing was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Asriel folded up the paper and placed it beside the radio on the dresser. Asgore had returned from his gardening and was carrying a watering can and a small shovel, both of which looked comically small in his massive hands.

“Howdy... Asriel?”

He nodded.

Asgore walked over as fast as he could, but ended up clipping his prodigious horns on the entrance to the living room and lost his balance. He landed hard on his back, horticultural implements clanking loudly as they hit the ground.

“Are you okay?” Asriel asked, letting out a wry smile despite himself.

He walked over to where Asgore lay, hesitating for a moment before helping him up. Asgore promptly engulfed him in a suffocating bear hug that lifted him off the ground. It still hurt, this time physically as well, but his disarming manner helped ease the pain. Between the two, he had always been the easier one to talk to.

Asriel found himself unable to resist. “Slap the ground hard with your arms,” he said as Asgore set him back down, “and then kick up with your legs if you fall backwards.”

“By golly, you remembered that? Ha!” Asgore slapped his thigh. “Gerson had bet me ten gold pieces that you would’ve forgotten the day after,” he said, suddenly looking wistful, “though I think I forgot to collect on it.”

“Thanks for your vote of confidence.”

“Any time, son.” Asgore looked Asriel up and down, letting out a long sigh. “Gee… you’ve changed a lot, haven’t you?”

"I’ve… been away for a while.” It was strange talking about it like he had just come back from college or some extended sabbatical, but it was better than the alternative. “Things… happened.”

“You’re here now. That’s what really matters.” Asgore ruffled the tuft of hair between Asriel's horns. "You've grown into a fine young man, haven't you?"

A fine young man? It was not the first time he had addressed as such, but this time the appellation stung. Asriel nodded slowly, averting his eyes.

"Toriel should be ready soon. We ought to get seated before then," he said, balling his fists and turning away from Asgore. He heard a small, confused grunt of assent from over his shoulder as he walked back to his chair. They both took their seats at the table, sitting beside each other.

An awkward silence hung over the room that was broken only by the song drifting from the radio. Asriel tapped out the rhythm on his knee, still avoiding Asgore's gaze. On the other hand, Asgore seemed torn between examining Asriel's face and being preoccupied with his ex-wife's cooking.

Toriel emerged from the kitchen, carrying a freshly-baked pie between her mittens.

"Ah. Welcome back, Asgore," she intoned, before turning to Asriel. "Here we are! Your favorite," she said, setting the pie down and dishing out a slice for each of them. She sounded cheerful, but her smile was too… stiff. She took a seat at the table opposite the both of them.

It took Asriel a little while to realise that the both of them were staring at him expectantly. "Ah. Sorry," he said, picking up his cutlery. "Thanks for the food."

Toriel smiled warmly in response. "It is good to have you back, my child."

Asgore simply nodded in agreement.

"I—” Asriel began, before reconsidering. “Thank you."

The three of them began their meal in silence, Asgore and Toriel casting glances at Asriel, and occasionally at each other. 

The pie was fragrant and warm. He scooped out a small piece and placed it in his mouth. Asriel’s eyes widened. It tasted… good? Perhaps he had become too accustomed to the awful flavor of his own cooking back in the diner.

He chewed. A smooth, malty sweetness, a little spice from the cinnamon, all encased in a toasty, crumbly package. It was just as good, and just as comforting, as he remembered. Asriel smiled, wiping away the crumbs caught in the fur around his mouth with a paper napkin. Some things, they never change. He took another mouthful, and then another.

Toriel reached over, handing him her own napkin. “I am glad you like it so much.”

Asriel looked at her, confused. “Uh, I already have one,” he said. He wiped down his muzzle again, flipping the serviette around to demonstrate. “It’s not that dirty yet.”

For perhaps the first time, Toriel made what felt to Asriel like a genuine smile. “Not for that, my child.” She let out a short, unrestrained chuckle, eyes glinting.

Asriel cocked his head in confusion. He looked first to Toriel for explanation, then to Asgore, and then back to Toriel again. What did she mean? What was he missing? Was there something that he did wrong? Why—

“My child,” She said, stifling another giggle, “my dear, sweet, precious little child… you… you are crying…”

“I… I’m not—?”

Asriel blinked. A blurry film formed across his vision. He raised a hand to rub his eyes, and it brushed against his cheeks—

What? When had…?

They were damp. He froze, paw trembling.

Toriel reached over the table to him, cupping his hand with both of hers. It was soft and pleasant and warm, so warm, in their embrace. She carefully removed his hand from his cheek, bringing it to rest on the table, and unfurled his fingers with her own. They ran over the pads and through his fur with a reassuring yet tender firmness.

His vision grew watery. Asriel shook his head, his ears gently swaying. “Please… I don’t d-deserve this, I r-really don’t.” He sniffed loudly and swallowed, wiping his face with his free arm.

Asgore, who had at some point had left his seat, slid his right arm behind Asriel, pulling him closer and wrapping him in a hug. Even while kneeling, Asgore still came up to his sitting height. He choked out a laugh at how absurd it all was.

“I don’t deserve t-this,” Asriel continued, throat hoarse and breath ragged, “b-but… I’m… T-Thank you… Thaaank you s-sooo m-much…”

Toriel squeezed his hand tightly, and he found himself unable to hold back any longer. Asriel wailed, burying his face into Asgore’s fluffy shoulder.

“I-I’m sooo s-soorryyy…”

Asgore patted his back gently. From what seemed like far away, the radio played its humble tune, and the logs crackled merrily in the fireplace.

After a while, Asriel’s tears ran dry. He nestled his muzzle deeper into Asgore’s shoulder, eyes closed, breathing deeply.

“Do you wish to talk about… what happened?” Asgore whispered.

Asriel shook his head, rubbing it against his father’s pink shirt. He quivered as Asgore’s voice rumbled through his body.

“Alright, son. I… understand.”

Toriel squeezed on Asriel’s hand once again. “Leave it for after, my child. Worry not. We have all the time in the world…”

And for a few, precious minutes, it was true.

The tension in the room slowly eased as they talked. Asgore recounted his days giving out presents and surprising children with candy, while Toriel reminisced about her time when she was younger and still learning the ways of the monarchy. Asriel, too, recalled his childhood as if it were yesterday. For a while, it was as if the good times had never passed.

“… I still can’t believe you did that. Ha!” Asgore exclaimed, slapping his thigh.

Toriel stifled her laughter, but a muffled snort still escaped her muzzle.

“Come onnnnn,” Asriel protested, “I was like, so small back then! And I hadn’t had either of those before! They’re both human foods, y’know, how was I even supposed to realize that you weren’t meant to mix the ketchup and peanut butter?” He gestured wildly, exasperated. “That’s what the recipe on the label told me to do!”

All that Asriel’s little outburst succeeded in doing was to make Toriel and Asgore double up with laughter.

“Ohh, my child, i-it is not your fault,” Toriel said, trying her best to maintain an even tone between fits of giggling. “you were only trying your best to make us happy.”

Asgore pounded the table with a fist, roaring with amusement. “Those cookies both looked and smelled… interesting, that’s for sure.”

“Hey! You don’t get to complain, you didn’t even try any of them!”

“Golly, Asriel, don’t tell me you ended up eating them?”

Asriel blushed furiously. “I mean… I was hungry, okay? And they, er, didn’t even taste all that bad?”

Toriel recovered enough to form complete sentences without wheezing. “Ahh, you were such a strange child back then, were you not? I leave you unattended in our house for one day, and this is what you do. My oh my, how could I have forgotten that you were quite the intrepid little chef even at that age?”

He had no response to Toriel’s remark other than to cross his hands and huff sulkily.

“Oh, oh!” Asgore piped up. “Do you remember that evening not too long after we first bought you a phone?”

Asriel shrugged. “Huh? What evening?”

“I think it was about a month, maybe two months later? Who knows. Anyways, you were so delighted with your gift at first, and so were we. But then one day Tori– uh, Toriel caught you red-handed playing games way past your bedtime, and so she went and confiscated your phone for a week.”

“Ah, I remember that that got you so upset,” Toriel replied, suddenly very interested, “but was there something which happened after?”

Asgore chuckled. “Oh, by Ebott you bet there was.”

Oh no. Not that. Asriel buried his face in his ears in a futile attempt to conceal his growing embarrassment. “Come on, Dad… Oh my god…”

Asgore carried on undaunted, turning to face Asriel. He leaned forward, lowering his voice dramatically. “It was the dead of night. I was in my office in the palace, busy filling in papers for some routine maintenance work on something or other. Out of nowhere, I hear a soft knocking at the door, and it swings open, and lo and behold— there you were.

“You came up to me and hugged my leg, bawling like there was no tomorrow. ‘What’s wrong, Asriel?’ You shook your head. ‘Having trouble sleeping? You want Dad to give you a hug?’ I asked, but you still just stood there. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to tell Dad what’s going on?’”

Ignoring Asriel’s attempts to sink even further into the floor, Asgore clasped his hands into a pleading gesture and raised his chin. “Then at last you finally look up to me, your eyes all watery with tears, and— pfft— and you say, ‘M-Mom, she… she took my… I’ve… I’ve b-been excom—’”

“Okay, okay! Stooop! Pleaaase!” Asriel blurted out, grinding his face against his ears.

Toriel threw her head back, laughing uncontrollably.

“Oh my god,” Asriel moaned. “Okay. I admit defeat. I think we’ve already firmly established that I’m just a big stupid, alright? But I’m not like, uh… dumb?”

“Hoooh,” Asgore said, as he tried his best to recover. “Alright, alright, I shan’t tease you any longer. But you know, I don’t think either of us ever had any reason to say that word around you. Could it have been something that you picked up from Chara or was—”

Upon mention of Chara’s name, Toriel ceased her laughter and her head snapped back, shooting Asgore a scathing glare. His eyes widened and he gave a little whimper, covering his mouth with both hands.

“Oops.”

Asriel broke the uncomfortable silence. “I-It’s okay. I’m… over it. Don’t be too mad at Asgore, please…”

Toriel sighed. Her gaze softened, but she kept her eyes fixed on Asgore as she spoke. “Alright. I suppose that if it is for your sake, I can do that.”

“I– I just need some time, really. Promise. It’s fine.”

“Sorry,” Asgore mumbled.

The table went silent again. The pie was getting cold from their extended conversation, but Asriel helped himself to another slice anyway.

“Um. So.” Asriel spoke between mouthfuls. “Do you remember how Chara liked sweet things so much?”

Toriel nodded gravely. “Of course, dear. I have not a clue as to where they got their sweet tooth from, but it was evident.” She smiled a little. “They kept pestering me for chocolates whenever we ran out, after all.”

“Did you notice the cookies going missing?”

“Certainly. One day they would be there, and then by the next, they would be gone. It was just like magic.”

“I helped—”

“We know, my child. Chara and Asriel, the inseparable duo, partners in crime.” Toriel gazed wistfully at the wall opposite from where she was seated. “Cookie stealers, curfew breakers, Temmie tippers— the two of you did everything together. The both of you were so different, but yet so… alike…” Her voice trailed off, while Asgore nodded slowly in agreement.

“They were… more than just a sibling to me. A best friend.” Asriel stabbed the last piece of his pie with his fork, staring intently at it, and twirled it on his plate. “I… miss them, now more than ever.”

“So do we, son, so do we,” Asgore whispered, his voice rumbling. He lay an arm across Asriel’s shoulders and squeezed tightly.

Asriel finished his pie, washing it down with some water. Chara would have loved it; they most certainly would.

“I-If it’s not too much to ask, may I see our room?” he asked.

“Of course,” Toriel said, staring at the table. “I’ll just, erm, clean up and keep the pie warm for… later.” She stood up, pushing her chair back, its feet scraping the floor loudly, and proceeded to collect the used cutlery. “Asgore, if you… would you kindly…?”

“Oh,” Asgore said, “er, right.” He seemed surprised at the request, but got up anyway, motioning for Asriel to follow.

“… not coming?” Asriel heard him mutter as they walked through the hallway.

He was certain of why, but kept his thoughts to himself. They would most likely do no good here.

Asriel reached for the doorknob as soon as they arrived before his old bedroom. Before Asgore could say a word, Asriel had already opened the door and stepped inside. His memories were fresh, and he already knew what he would find. Two beds, one on each side of the room, a dresser, a standing lamp, and a short cupboard. A room much like the one he had slept in at the diner. Asgore watched silently from the entrance of the room.

The beds were small, much too small for a fully grown boss monster. Asriel’s bed on the right side of the room was surrounded by boxes of overloved stuffed animals and toys, and the wall it was flushed against had been covered with vivid dark blue paint and dotted with pale green stars.

Asriel picked up one of the plushes from a box beside the bed. A little stuffed bear, weathered with love. It had once been his, until there had been a… change of hands.

A sudden twinge of envy beset him. He clutched at his racing heart, forcing a wave of nausea back down as he sat on his bed. He stared at the bunk across from him. Unlike his own, it had none of his creature comforts; its owner had insisted it be functional and plain despite his protests to the contrary. Taking deep breaths, Asriel lay down and stretched his legs across the dark blue sheets. They were quickly met with the cold wooden footboard, so he settled for curling up on his side, facing the constellations of his own design.

Chara…

The two of them sit in the middle of the room, poring over their latest haul by the dim light of a lamp. Today is far from the first time that Chara has snuck out on an illicit trip to the garbage dump, but it is the first time they have brought Asriel along.

“Are you _sure_ we can keep this?” he asks.

Chara tilts their head quizzically. “Why not? It’s not like it’s anything special.”

“But… but… the robots are fighting!”

“Pfft. What, is that a problem? You read those fantasy novels all the time. Don’t tell me that they don’t fight in those.”

“But that’s… different! This one has pictures!”

“So?” They cross their arms and smirk.

Asriel wrings his ears like a pair of wet dishrags. “W-What if Mom finds out? I don’t wanna get grounded again…”

“It’s just a comic, Azzy. And you liked it, didn’t you?”

“Y-Yes, b-but—"

“Look,” Chara says, grabbing Asriel by the shoulders, “if you’re that worried, I’ll hide it under my bed for you. We’ll say that a friend gave us this stuff. Nobody will know.”

“But Charaaaa… I don’t want you to get into—”

They fix him with a stare. “It’s fine, Azzy. Don’t worry about it.”

“O-Ok,” Asriel whimpers, avoiding Chara’s gaze. He fiddles with a sheet of plasticy, green material in his paws.

Chara frowns and huffs in irritation, before their expression softens into a gentle smile. Asriel looks up, his face a mix of confusion and surprise as they lean over and wrap him in a hug. He freezes up in the sudden warmth.

“C-Chara…?”

Their only response is to squeeze him even tighter.

Somewhere far in the back of his mind, he realizes that Chara has never been so forward before. But in the moment, with their arms around him, he is struck by the scent of their hair, soft and comforting, much like the flowers his Dad was so proud of. He lets out a long breath and his shoulders slacken.

Asriel smiles quietly and hugs Chara. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault.”

“Is too,” they insist, releasing him from their hug.

He folds his arms in mock anger and puffs out his chest, turning up his snout. “Is not.”

Chara waggles a finger at him. “Well, I’m more sorry than you are.” They poke him in the chest and he flinches.

“No, _I_ am.” He jabs their stomach in return.

They stare at each other for just a moment before Chara snorts, and the two of them burst out in fits of laughter.

“Thanks for bringing me along,” Asriel says after regaining his composure. “You’re the best, Chara.”

“That I am,” they reply. “You too.”

The two siblings exchange grins.

Chara goes back to sorting through the small pile on the floor between them, while Asriel looks over the slick material in his hands. It is pale green on one side and white on the other, and feels rather thick. “What’s this for?” he asks.

“It’s vinyl, I think. Pass me the scissors, I’ll show you.”

Asriel grabs them from the pile and hands it to Chara along with the sheet of vinyl. He watches as they cut out a star-shaped chunk from it. They peel off the colored layer and stick it to his shirt.

“Gee thanks, Chara,” he says, “that’s really nice.”

“Hang on, don’t take it off yet.”

Chara stands and walks over to the lamp by the corner of the room. “Ready?”

“Erm, sure, but what—”

They flick off the light. An emerald light cuts through the darkness.

“Wow…” Asriel whispers, fingering the glowing star. For a little while, his thoughts drift and he is in a different world altogether.

“You like it?” Chara asks, returning to sit in front of him.

“Is this what it’s like, up there?”

By the soft starlight, he thinks he sees their smile waver.

“Yes. Yes it is, Azzy,” they reply, their voice quiet but firm.

Asriel meets Chara’s eyes before averting them. “I-Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I—”

“I said I’m fine.”

A silence descends upon the midnight of the room. Asriel sighs and returns to toying with the star. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel the chill night air stream through his fur and the damp grasses beneath his paws… 

“Sorry,” Chara says.

He opens his eyes to see them hugging their knees to their chest. “It’s ok. I wish I could see the stars too.”

He thinks he sees a hint of disappointment cross Chara’s face. They smile sadly. “I’m sure you will. One day.”

The mattress sank and the bedframe groaned as Asgore sat on the edge of the bed. Asriel sat up, roused from his recollection.

“Are.. you okay, son?”

“I’m fine.”

Asriel stood and walked to the far wall, looking over the crudely drawn pictures of flowers and stars taped to them.

“Do you know, we used to play in this room?” he said, running a hand across the pictures attached to the wall. Some of the color rubbed off onto the pads on his fingertips.

Asgore remained silent.

Asriel chuckled to himself. “Of course you would, what am I thinking. That’s just what little kids would do. Chara would read stories to me, hiding under the blankets. We’d make pictures with crayons and macaroni, and dream about what we’d be like when we grew up."

Asgore ventured a whispered question. “I-I’m sorry. I have to ask. Do you know why…?”

“We had this game which Chara called 'Monsters and Humans' that we played a lot. Chara would be the Human, and I would be the Monster. The Human would close their eyes and count to thirty, and the Monster would hide in the room. Then the Human would try to catch the Monster, without looking.

“‘Why is the Human chasing the Monster?’ I would ask. ‘That’s how it is,’ they would say. ‘Why can’t the Human open their eyes?’ ‘That’s how it is.’

Asriel swallowed, and clenched his fists.

“‘Why are you always the Human?’

“‘That’s how it is.’”

Asriel looked up at the drawing his fist lay upon. A poorly drawn creature dressed in black robes flew through a sky full of stars. It wielded two swords, and a small figure sat on his shoulders, grasping its horns. Both of them were smiling.

“I didn’t—”

“I don’t blame you, Asgore, for not knowing. They were very, very, very good at hiding it when they wanted to. From the both of you, especially. Chara never talked about how they really felt to anyone but me. And I…”

Asriel paused, wiping his eyes with a sleeve.

“I’m really some special kind of idiot, aren’t I? Maybe that’s why Chara chose me. I wish… I wish I really understood what was going on in that clever, weirdly-shaped head of theirs sooner. I wish that… maybe, something could have been different. I wish… that God, or whoever it was that made wishes come true didn’t have such a sick sense of humor.”

He punched the wall, earning him nothing but sore knuckles.

Asgore motioned to stand up, but Asriel raised a hand to stop him.

“It’s okay, it’s fine. I’m over it, like I said.”

For the first time, Asriel noticed the golden locket resting on the cupboard. A thought occurred to him.

Asgore moved towards Asriel, reaching out for him. “Asriel, please, let me—”

Asriel grabbed the locket and ran, weaving around Asgore’s outstretched arm, out of the bedroom, out of the hallway, as fast as his legs could carry him.

“Asriel! Wait! Where are you— Tori—!”

Maybe… Just maybe…

He dashed past the withering tree, its blood-red leaves faded and fallen, past marble pillar and brick wall—

He might have died…

—Past water and web, past spike and stone—

But if he was here… 

—Past tunnel and trap, past switch and sign—

Then perhaps…

—into the cavern where it all began, clutching the locket to his heart, and in the midst of it all, kneeling in a bed of those beautiful, cursed golden flowers—

“CHARA! IT’S ME! YOUR BEST FRIEND!”


	6. Passing Through

Light filters through the shimmering air by the hole in the ceiling, illuminating a brown-haired, pale-skinned figure kneeling on a patch of green. He tiptoes with his gaze fixed on the strange creature in their tattered t-shirt, trying his best to avoid disturbing the grasses as he approaches from behind.

“Hello?” he says, voice quavering.

There is no answer, but he thinks he can hear crying.

“Are you okay? Did you fall down?”

Taking a deep breath, he walks up to the creature, clutching his little paws close to his chest. Somehow, they do not notice him. He reaches out to tap their shoulder…

The human snaps around just before he makes contact and the two of them cry out in unison. Human and monster throw themselves backwards in surprise, scrabbling desperately away from each other.

“D-Don’t hurt me, please!” they say, curling their legs towards their chest and shielding their face with their arms. “I… I d-don’t want… to d-die…”

He sits up, fear and confusion slowly dissolving into pity. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says, raising his empty paws in front of him. “L-Look, I-I won’t hurt you…”

The human cowers as he crawls over to them.

“Um, hi. I’m Asriel,” he says, smiling and extending a hand towards them. “And… you are?”

They peek out from behind their arms. “As...riel… T-That’s… a nice name.”

He withdraws his unanswered gesture. “Haha, um… thanks? Nobody’s told me that before…”

Their lips curl in the faintest beginnings of a smile. “I’m—”

“Chara? Is that… really you?”

The human lifted their head at the sound of Asriel’s desperate cry. Sunlight shone through the hole in the stone ceiling of the cavern, illuminating their curious expression. He called out again as he stumbled towards them, panting between words.

“Chara? Chara! It's me!”

The human turned to face him and stood up, crimson eyes brimming with tears. He fell to his knees and they ran to his waiting arms, the flowers crunching beneath their feet, sending sprays of golden petals flying with every footstep. Tears ran down their rosy cheeks, glimmering in the warm light. Chara flung themself into his grasp and he threw his arms around them as they gripped him in a desperate hug. He breathed in, taking in the familiar floral scent of their hair, running it through his fingers just as he used to do. He felt their weight as they leaned into his embrace, resting their head on his chest, nestled just below his. Asriel smiled. Even after all these years, humans were still surprisingly heavy.

It was all just so… real… But how could it be?

He felt their head rub against the little tuft of white fur that peeked out from the collar of his shirt. They lifted his ear, tugging it gently towards them. Asriel obliged, lowering his head to meet theirs. Chara bit their lip, and then whispered to him.

“I’m… sorry. For everything.”

He only hugged them all the tighter, feeling the warmth of their body against his. He could feel their heart beating, a steady, deep resonance against his chest. In turn he could feel his own, pounding wildly and erratically, slowly still its frenetic pace to match.

"It's okay," Asriel murmured.

"Perhaps."

The two of them stayed like that for a while, locked in an endless embrace

"It's been so long, Chara."

"I know."

"You've grown."

Chara smiled. They lifted an arm and he tucked in his muzzle in response. Chara pet the fur between his horns and he let out a low rumble.

"Not as much as you, mister God of Hyperdeath," they said, chuckling. "You're positively enormous."

He laughed. "Ha! Tell that to Dad."

For a second, Asriel thought he saw their smile waver, but he blinked and it was gone. If he hadn't known them for as long as he had, he probably would have written it off as his imagination. Chara did always have an uncanny knack for hiding how they really felt.

"I will," they said, "you can be sure of that."

Asriel paused for a moment, looking Chara over from head to toe. "I missed you."

They nodded. "Me too."

Asriel put up one knee and pushed himself off the ground with a grunt. He offered a hand to Chara. They reached out to take it but hesitated and froze midway, staring at his outstretched palm. Asriel smiled and wrapped his soft, furry hand around theirs, giving it a tight squeeze. Chara looked up at him, still smiling. They nodded, and he helped them to their feet.

There had been a time when they had both been the same height, two peas in a pod, chasing raindrops through glassy plains, but that had long since passed. Chara had grown, true, but at his full extension Asriel was at least two full human heads taller. He laid a paw on their shoulder and together they walked over to the center of the patch of flowers, where they lay beside each other, observing the sun-kissed petals descend from the opening above in their lilting dance.

Chara cocked their head, watching as Asriel slowly went cross-eyed while intently following the journey of a stray petal just above his head. It decided that the tip of his muzzle would be a good place to rest, causing him to wrinkle his snout and sneeze. Chara giggled.

"Do you remember the first time we met? Here, in this cave?" They asked.

"Yeah, of course, I wouldn't ever forget that. Both of us scared the living daylights out of each other.”

Chara turned up their nose at the suggestion. “Me, scared?”

“Pfft, as if. Even I could tell. I was so… small, and… so afraid. You too." It was weird talking about his own childhood in such a detached way. Asriel swatted at a passing petal then let his arm fall, cushioned by the flowers beneath. "I suppose we still are, in a way. Well, maybe not so much the small bit anymore."

Chara smiled. “Alright, maybe I was. Just a little though.”

“Hah!” he scoffed. “Just a little? You were shaking all the way back.”

Their smile waned, and they clutched their stomach. “It… hurt, you know.”

Chara’s words knocked the air out of him. “Oh. I’m sorry. I… should know better.”

"And… I was frightened, Azzy. Perhaps more than you ever realized. I came to Mount Ebott to run away, to escape, to… find an ending, anything really. I just didn’t want to be scared anymore. But… I was too much of a coward.”

“Chara…” he began tentatively.

They began to tear up again. “No, Azzy, I– I’m… I-It would have been b-better if we had never met."

Asriel felt a mix of pity and anger well up within him. He grabbed Chara by the shoulders and gave them a shake. "Chara, no. Don’t say that, please.”

For a moment, Chara was too shocked to respond. “I’m… sorry,” they said, staring at the ground.

He let Chara’s shoulders go. “You're no coward, Chara. You've been through so much, I’m sure. You're the bravest and smartest person I've ever met."

"I'm not. Not brave, not smart. Just foolish." Chara turned away from Asriel and stared at the falling petals. "Walk not the middle road," they murmured.

"I—" Asriel began. He didn't care? He would do it all over again? Would he? "I… wouldn't trade anything for meeting you. I just wish we could've… done things differently. Another chance, that's all I want."

Chara turned to Asriel and smiled. "If only life would have given us do-overs."

He swallowed and dug his claws into the dirt. Chara's gaze cut into his side.

"You aren't real, are you?" he whispered.

Chara reached for his hand, lifting it from the ground. Clumps of dirt fell from Asriel’s fingers as he let Chara uncurl them and hold them in their own. After a while, he reciprocated. Their fingers were rough, and firm, and solid, and… real.

"More than you think," they said, gently running their thumb through the fur on the back of his hand.

Asriel let out a deep breath and closed his eyes. "We had a lot of good times together, didn't we?"

"That we did. I could never count them all.”

“I miss our escapades to Waterfall. Do you remember those? I’d never had that much fun before.”

“Of course I do. Which one were you thinking of?”

“Our very first.” Asriel scratched his head. “The night before my birthday. I think it was not too long after you first arrived in the Underground, a bit after we’d settled in into New Home.”

“Ah,” Chara said, grinning. “You were so nervous about getting caught at first, it was adorable. But I’ll never ever forget how excited you were at seeing the stars.”

“And that surprise at the end, too.”

“Embarrassed?”

“Kinda. But really happy, all the same. No one’s ever done that for me before.” Asriel paused. “And I guess they never will again.”

He raised his hand, letting a petal settle on it, and examined it while he held it between his thumb and forefinger. Its tip appeared to have wilted, the sundrop golden of the petal darkening into a wrinkled dirt brown.

“But it’s ok. It’s enough for me. It’ll have to be.” Asriel sat up, holding the petal in his palm before him, and blew. It caught on a light breeze and vanished into the dark corners of the cavern.

"Perhaps… you won’t have to settle for such,” Chara said, sitting up as well. “A second chance like you wanted, as it were.”

Curious, he turned to meet Chara’s gaze. Blood-red eyes met golden, each unwavering.

“What do you mean?”

They hesitated, placing their hand over their heart, then shrugged. “I… don’t know. A feeling from long ago? Just a hunch.”

Asriel sighed. No answers were to be had in this place, it seemed. So be it. He wrapped his right arm around Chara, pulling them towards him. They leaned on his side, breathing deeply.

"I love you, Chara. We all did. So much."

"I know. It just took me too long to realise."

Under the spiralling petals they sat, quietly enjoying each other's company. Occasionally, one of them would break the silence with a remark or a recollection and the other would join in, but for the most part little was said and little needed to be.

After some time, Chara stood up and stretched. They squatted beside Asriel, who shot them an inquisitive look.

"You going somewhere?" he asked.

"There's someplace I think we should be," they whispered, holding out their hand. "Come with me?"

Asriel took their hand and stood up with their assistance, brushing the soil and petals off of his clothes. Some of it had caught in the exposed fur on his arms, and reaching around he felt more on the back of his head and neck; he gave a little shake like a dog wringing off water in a futile attempt to dislodge them all at once.

Chara laughed a delicate laugh. "My sweet Azzy. You always were such an adorable fuzzy little thing."

"Hey, now there's much more of me to go around," he said, picking off the sticks and petals from his arms. He turned around, gesturing to the back of his head. "Mind helping?"

"Of course, milord. But if I may be so bold, it behooves the prince to lower thyself to the realm of mere mortals such as I."

Asriel looked back over his shoulder at Chara, a quizzical look on his face. "Huh?"

"I need you to squat, silly. You're too tall to be groomed by a mere human."

"Oh, sorry." Asriel felt his cheeks flush under his fur and quickly did as Chara instructed.

Once Asriel had been certified twig-free by his sibling, Chara took his hand once again and led him towards a dark recess of the cave.

“This way,” Chara said.

“Where are we going?” Asriel asked, as the darkness of the cave swallowed them. He found it hard not to whisper, as if to not disturb whatever sinister beast that might be lurking. With his free hand, he could feel the wall of rock beside him, but it was difficult to make out anything else in the gloom.

"Somewhere… very important," Chara said, their voice hushed. “You know the place.”

As they spoke, Asriel felt the solid stone by his side fall away into the darkness. He tightened his grasp on their hand. Chara could have only meant one thing.

“The… garden?”

Chara simply nodded, a barely perceptible movement when Asriel could hardly see past the end of his own muzzle. Of course it was. It had to be.

A tiny pinprick of light appeared in Asriel’s field of vision, growing steadily larger with each step. The air became heavy and dank, and the gloom lightened. Hints of birdsong leaked in from the opening. Soon, they were at the boundary. Asriel and Chara stepped through, the darkness breaking and giving way to orange-gold twilight filtering through wispy waves of mulberry clouds. The trees on the edges of the path and the grasses between the sidewalk were strewn with glistening diamonds, and the stone under their feet was darkened by drying precipitation. They were standing in the middle of a road which branched off to the left and the right after a block or so. A lone signboard stood just beyond the junction. Even from this distance, Asriel could easily make out its bold proclamation, writ large in plain yellow letters. “PARK”.

The fur on Asriel’s back and arms stood on end. An acute sense of being watched gripped him, intensifying with every step he took. At first, eyes peeking out from between shuttered blinds and from within the quiet shadows hiding behind doors left purposely ajar, and then slowly becoming bolder— a stifled gasp, a halting murmur carried by the breeze, a nervous shuffling of footsteps unseen yet drawing ever closer. An electric shiver coursed through his body. He did not dare look over his shoulder.

Chara must have felt Asriel tremble or his anxiety must have been showing plainly on his face, as they squeezed his hand tightly.

"It's alright Azzy. It's all over now. It's in the past, and in the past shall it rest. Just memories. A bad dream," Chara said. They pointed behind him. "Look. Nothing there."

Gathering his courage, Asriel turned to face his psychic stalkers.

As Chara had promised, there was no one in sight. The brick-and-mortar houses lining the street were empty, devoid of any trace of life as they stood in silent vigil. Asriel let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

"Thanks. I needed that," he said.

"I know."

Asriel and Chara walked over to the bed of golden flowers in the center of the small park. Chara knelt, plucking a flower which they twirled by the stem between their fingers before slipping it into their hair.

Asriel grinned. “Very cute. Didn’t know that was your style.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try out new things once in a while,” Chara replied, producing a second flower out of nowhere as they rose and offered it to him.

Asriel stared at it for a short moment. “Sure, why not.” He plucked the flower out from between Chara’s thumb and forefinger, and inserted it into the little tuft of fur smack dab between his horns. Chara snorted.

“How’s this?” he asked, painfully aware of the new accessory decorating the top of his forehead like a yellow headlamp.

“Absolutely fantastic. It’s everything your handsome visage ever needed.” Chara bit their lip, choking back a laugh. Asriel rolled his eyes, removing the offending plant from his fur, and then closed them as he held the bloom before him. He took a deep breath. The mild aroma the blossom emitted was fragrant and familiar, much like he remembered it to be.

As he opened his eyes, Asriel noticed Chara staring past him at the town from which they had come. He followed their gaze but saw nothing but the still-vacant roads and buildings. He looked back to Chara. “Something wrong?”

"It’s strange, isn’t it. It's… a little different from what I recall," they said, tugging at their chin, "don’t you think?”

“I guess it is, now you mention it. Honestly, I… had other things on my mind at the time.”

“Like me?” Chara said, smirking.

“You could say so.” Asriel’s insides roiled uncomfortably. He chuckled. “In a manner of speaking.”

“How much of it do you remember?"

"Some. Most of it, actually." Asriel wrinkled his brow and scratched his head as he strained to put the pieces together. It was like groping around in the dark of the diner to find the correct switch for the light, except he was up to his waist in molasses and didn’t know if any of the switches were real. Fragmented, disconnected scenes and sensations came to him: cradling a body in his arms, the eerie feeling of being watched from afar, the pounding of raindrops against his skull. “It’s in bits and pieces, but it’s there if I try hard enough. I think.”

Chara nodded. “I understand. Perhaps it’s for the better this way. Let it rest.”

“Still… Did I… do the right thing by you, Chara?”

Chara shifted uncomfortably, clutching their arm to their side. They looked up, meeting Asriel’s gaze straight on. “By the time you refused me, I think… I think I knew by then— long before then, perhaps— but I was too afraid, too scared to do anything else. I knew only one path, but I… I was wrong. In the end, you found the strength to do right by yourself, so be proud, Azzy. Be proud.” They smiled sadly, a faint glimmer in their eyes.

“If I can.”

Asriel sat down beside Chara, the bronzed plaque between them. He leaned back on his forearms and stretched his legs out over the bed of flowers, feeling them tickle his feet. The clouds made their slow journey across the sky, lit by ripples of sunlight, while the tireless trees whispered in the cool, fresh breeze.

“Are you doing alright?” Chara asked, tilting their head to face Asriel.

He blinked and a small tremor ran through his body as he tore his eyes away from the setting sun. “Yeah. Thanks for being here.”

“Don’t thank me. You’re the one that found me.”

He scratched his head. “I suppose I did, kinda. But it doesn’t matter. Thanks anyway.”

Asriel’s eyes followed Chara as they stood up. A smile tugged at the corners of Chara’s lips.

They sighed. “Such a kind soul you are. I suppose I should have foreseen your choice,” Chara said.

“It’s fine. Let’s not talk about it anymore.”

He sat up as they brushed off the last of the grass from their green and yellow shirt. “Going somewhere?” he asked.

Chara pointed towards the pair of swings attached to a rusting, blue frame off to the right of the flowerbed. It sat in the middle of a sandpit, to the left of a brightly colored playhouse equipped with a number of slides of varying inclinations. Asriel watched as a little white-furred boss monster stomped up a set of plastic stairs, chasing after a small, brown-haired child as they dashed towards the tall corkscrew slide at the playhouse’s far end. He blinked, and they had vanished, though their screams of excitement still echoed in his mind.

Asriel smiled, turning back to Chara. “Aren’t we getting a little old for this?”

“Pfft. Don’t tell me you’re going to be worried about that now? Since when were you ever the type?” They crossed their arms. “Besides, it depends on how you want to count it, anyway.”

He cocked his head to the side and shrugged. “Ahh, my liege, an interminable font of wisdom as usual, I see. Where would I have been without you?”

“I see that my prince has picked up a semblance of a vocabulary in my absence,” Chara said, sneering. “And more than a little attitude. Did you get that from the dictionary, too?”

He nodded smugly. “Oh, of course. Perhaps if you’d actually read it you might pick up a few things.”

“Duly noted, your highness.”

Asriel threw his hand forward in a dramatic flourish. “Lead the way then, my liege.”

Chara stepped back and placed their right hand across their waist, giving Asriel a deep bow. “As you wish, my dear sweet charming God of Hyperdeath.”

“Can you not—” Asriel began, quickly reddening before he managed to clamp his muzzle shut with all the willpower he could muster.

Chara smirked once more before turning on their heel and heading for the swings, with Asriel close behind.

“I’m not embarrassed,” he muttered.

“Come again?” Chara said, not bothering to look behind them.

“Hm? Did I say something?”

“Ah, must be my especially hyperactive imagination then.” Chara took a seat on the swing on the right, facing towards the sunset. They shot Asriel a look over their shoulder and gestured to the empty swing beside them. “Don’t keep me waiting now, Azzy.”

Asriel sighed, a tired smile crossing his face. He obliged and took his place beside Chara, letting his weight rest on the black rubber seat. It was a few sizes too small for him, sagging in the middle with the metal chains pressing against his sides. A little uncomfortable, but it would have to do.

He glanced at Chara. “Er… How do you use this thing? I’ve only read about it…”

“You turn it on, the switch is under the seat,” they replied with a perfectly straight face.

Asriel narrowed his eyes in suspicion at Chara’s awfully nonchalant demeanor. “Come on, I’m not that silly.”

“Fine, fine, you got me.” They stood up, grasping the chains on either side of them, and took a step backwards before sitting back on the rubber and letting themselves swing in a gentle arc, kicking as they swooped forward.

Asriel followed suit, mimicking their movements. On the second forward arc, he kicked out, sending himself even higher. On the third, his dangling feet caught in the sand on the way down. He was thrown out of his seat and flopped face-first into the sandpit, letting out a small groan.

Chara stopped and got off their swing to squat beside Asriel. “Are you okay?” they asked, extending a hand.

He lifted his head and spat out a few stray grains of sand that had found their way into his mouth. “Straightforward concern? How unlike you.”

Chara shrugged. “I’m a stubborn person, but even I picked up a few things here and there. I had a good teacher, after all.” They gave him a small smile and tapped his snout. “Learned only from the very best.”

Asriel smiled in return and took Chara’s hand, standing up with their assistance. The pair of them returned to their swings and rode them quietly as the sun sank behind the trees in the horizon. The purple and orange of the sky deepened, and a calming warmth found its home, nestled between the two lost souls. He felt it as surely as the wind lapping against his fur.

“Our first sunset together,” Chara said, slowing down and coming to a halt. They dismounted and stood beside him. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.” He trailed his feet through the fine sand and got off the swing.

Asriel accompanied Chara as they walked back to the flowerbed. “If only I could have shown you the sunrise, shown you the stars,” they said, casting their gaze to the grass underfoot. “It was my dream, you know? The only thing I thought I was good for. The two of us together, forever.”

“Chara…”

“I know, I know.” They sighed and gave him a half-smile. “Maybe if it hadn’t been raining…”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t matter now.”

“I’m sorry, Azzy.”

“Me too.”

Chara took a seat before the flowers, and Asriel followed suit. They leaned into his warm fur and he circled their waist with an arm. Together, they watched the last vestiges of the day flee the impending night. As the light waned, Asriel thought he could make out brief flashes of color illuminate the firmament.

Asriel let out a deep breath. “It’s all over now, right? Like you said.”

“I guess… it’s time to move on now.” Chara plucked the flower they had lodged in their hair and laid it carefully lengthwise before the little pedestal in front of the flowerbed. “Being dead for a little while sure gives you a new perspective on things, doesn’t it?”

“Sure does.” He slowly released Chara, closing his eyes and lying down on the grass.

“Any last wishes?”

“Um…” Asriel stared blankly at the horizon, before inclining his head to face Chara’s. “Let’s meet again, okay?”

“As old friends, under the starry skies…” Chara said, wistful.

“Someday…” Asriel tried his best to smile, and Chara smiled back.

“Someday.”

His gaze fell to the ground. Chara remained silent.

“You know,” he said, sitting up, “can’t you stay a little longer? Maybe if we’re lucky, the stars will be out in a few minutes. And then… perhaps…”

They shrugged. “Maybe I could. Maybe not. Who knows. But what I do know is that it’s a promise, okay?”

“But—”

Chara flung their arms around him and he gasped. “I promise,” they whispered to a floppy ear. “ _We_ promise. Okay? Think of it as… s-something to look forward to.”

“A-Alright.” Asriel sighed and his shoulders drooped in their warmth. He sniffed and wiped his eyes with a fluffy white arm as Chara pulled away.

“Chara?” he asked.

Their eyes met. “Yes, Azzy?”

“Um… I probably shouldn’t, but… were you ever really here?”

“Were any of us?”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, does it?”

“I don’t know the answers, Azzy, I never did. Trust your heart. I believe in you.”

Chara moved forward to sit before the plaque and ran their fingers over the bronzed surface. They lingered on the last name. “I’m so glad Mom and Dad remembered me,” they whispered. “Who am I kidding, o-of course they would. They’re such… _good_ p-people, the both of them, all of you, and I d-dont—”

Asriel placed a hand on their shoulder. “Chara.”

“Y-You’re right,” Chara said, blinking away tears. They inhaled deeply, stilling their breathing. “We’re moving on, aren’t we? Moving on, to where? I d-don’t know. But we’ll meet again, right? Azzy?”

“As old friends.”

“As o-old f-friends...” They stood up, looking down at Asriel. “I g-guess this is it, then. G-Goodbye, Azzy,” they choked out.

Chara took a few steps forward into the patch of flowers, then turned around. With the dying sun behind them, their face was shrouded by the shadows of twilight, but Asriel could see tears streaming down their cheeks.

“When we meet, c-choose a b-better shirt next time, o-okay?”

Asriel looked down, only to be greeted by the shocking pink figure of Mew Mew posing with its wand. The glitter on the stars sparkled in the embers of day.

When he looked up again, Chara was gone.

From the forest beyond the fence, past empty streets and abandoned buildings, a strange wind blew through the town—

“Goodbye, Chara.”


	7. Interlude: Where Were You When the Barrier Broke?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short snack in the meantime. I hope everyone is having an excellent holiday!

Aubrey James Richford was a perfectly ordinary man.

Being ordinary and unnoticed was something he took great pride in, a skill he had honed all his life. He was not particularly attractive, but not exactly bad-looking either. He was congenial to those around him, but not quite endearing enough for anyone to consider their relationship any more than a formality. Perhaps his most interesting quality was his slightly unusual name, but it was not one that merited any real notice. To most everyone but his immediate coworkers and a small handful of friends, he was effectively invisible.

Aubrey had found living in the city and having to deal with other humans all the time to be too stressful, and so this uninteresting job shuffling papers in a backwater town in the middle of nowhere suited him perfectly well. He had moved here several years ago at the behest of some acquaintances, and had no regrets ever since. It was easy for him to adapt to such a plain and quiet life.

Every weekday, he would conduct the same routine, waking up at eight in the morning to prepare for his clerical duties. He lived alone in the far outskirts of town and so after a modest breakfast— usually a sandwich or some cereal— he would drive for about half an hour to his office. On the last Friday of every month, he would stop by the local cafe and treat himself to a pastry and some coffee in place of his usual fare.

On his way to work, he would be treated to a picturesque view of the mountain that overlooked the town. The mountain stood a fair distance away and there was a narrow dirt trail leading to it, though it had long since been closed off. The locals said the mountain was cursed, haunted, and sometimes both at once. Many legends had sprung up around it, each one more fantastic than the last. On occasion, he entertained the idea of hopping the fence and trekking up to it, but would quickly dismiss it. Such fancies would be considered too unusual by his standards.

After reaching his office, he would exchange pleasantries with his colleagues and proceed to his desk. He would then attend to his ennui-inducing day job with the acceptable amount of verve— which is to say, none at all. This would carry on for the next couple of hours, the comfortable monotony broken only by a bland lunch at the cafeteria, and at five in the afternoon he would bid his farewells.

Most days he would head straight home, work out for an hour and shower before heating up some of the food he had prepared over the weekend. About once a month, he would instead join his colleagues for dinner followed by some drinks, because that would be the normal thing to do. In either case, he would be in bed by eleven sharp, not a minute too late.

Today, as he was driving home from work, he felt a sudden urge to try something new. Such impulses came from time to time and he was used to dealing with them, but today felt different, somehow. As he passed the mountain, he slowed down and parked by the side of the road.

Aubrey got out of the car, locked it, and walked over to the metal rails lining the street. Beyond it was a steep slope which led down into the forest. The thought of walking into it crossed his mind, but he decided that he had already exceeded his quota of abnormal decisions for the day.

From where he stood, elevated above the greenery, he had a clear view of the mountain basking in the warm orange sunset. It was a breathtaking sight, one that would not be out of place on a postcard or in some natural photography collection. Many believed it was only because of the sheer obscurity of the place that it remained relatively unmarred by human hands, but he knew better.

As he gazed upon the mountain, he thought he saw strange flashes of light coming from… somewhere. He squinted, but could not make out anything further.

All of a sudden, a low rumble shook the mountain and the ground trembled. He ran to his car in panic, fumbling with his keys, but none of them would fit into the lock. Looking over his shoulder, he gasped as a brilliant flash of red light enveloped the mountain like a crimson blanket.

Aubrey James Richford wished it had been a perfectly ordinary day.


	8. It's the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are back. Hope you had a great start to the year!

Asriel lay back down on the ground and closed his eyes. This was the end, wasn't it? Fragments of his short life in the Underground, of the happy times spent with Chara, surfaced from the dark recesses of memory. Along with them came the choking vines, writhing and snaking— the smell of dust, the bitter taste of betrayal. He pushed against them, forcing them back under. The brambles strained and snapped against him, but eventually fled into crevices unseen.

He opened his eyes again, rubbing them and letting out a long breath, as if waking from a dream. He rested his head on his hands and watched as a passing cloud drift across the uncannily circular moon. Nothing came easy, it would seem. Asriel stretched out a hand to the sky, and with a sudden motion grasped the moon in his hand. The moonlight caught in his fur, enveloping his arm in an ethereal glow. He slowly unclenched his fist, letting the rays of light stream through the spaces between his fingers. If only letting go would be so simple.

Chara, where could you be?

The sound of footsteps on stone came from behind him. He craned his neck backwards, and found himself face-to-face with a small, brown-haired human child standing over him. Asriel estimated that she was around his waist in height, just like Chara. Like his sibling, she too wore a striped shirt, albeit in different colors. Their gaze met, and for a moment Asriel felt like he remembered something of those squinty eyes and vaguely disinterested expression of hers. Fr… something. The name sat on the tip of his tongue, but he could not quite place it. Asriel sat up and turned around.

“Asriel?” She spoke deliberately, keeping her tone steady and low. “Do you… remember me?”

A light breeze blew and she wrapped her hands around her waist as if in need of warmth. Asriel brows furrowed and he ground his teeth. He stared at the ground while straining to recall. He thought he could… A small child… in the Ruins...

“N-No? Is it too soon?” Notes of panic bled into her voice and she dug their fingers into her side. “I messed up again, didn’t I… M-Maybe I should have—”

“Fr…isk? Frisk…?” Was that the name? It seemed like it belonged, but…

Asriel’s train of thought was interrupted as Frisk lunged towards him and threw her arms around his chest, forcing the air out of him in a suffocating hug. A familiar, comforting warmth seemed to emanate from her, and for a moment Asriel found himself feeling strangely at ease. Where had he felt it before? He stared blankly at the trees behind her, trying to process what was happening. Asriel could feel her crying softly into his shirt as it slowly grew wet with tears.

His stomach clenched. What was going on? He could just barely remember her name, and now this? Asriel hesitated, then gently patted the girl on her back. After just a little while, Frisk lifted her head from Asriel’s chest and wiped away the last of her tears.

“Are you… alright?” he ventured.

“T-Thank you. I’m sorry. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” Frisk sniffed a last time and closed her eyes, exhaling deeply.

Asriel couldn’t help but think that the words that she spoke sounded strange coming from the mouth of someone this young. But then again, his experience with human children had been for the most part limited to Chara, who would’ve easily talked circles around anyone they cared to. If he closed his eyes, he probably could have pictured them saying the exact same thing. It was frankly uncanny. Perhaps humans grew up much faster than monsters did.

Asriel cocked his head. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He paused. “Um, if you say so.” Chara never liked it when he pried, even till the very end.

Frisk lifted her gaze to meet his own. “Do you… r-remember what I…”

“I’m, um, sorry, but I’m not really sure what you mean,” Asriel said, scratching his head. “I think we’ve met before, but I don’t really remember at the moment. Sorry. I’ve… been feeling a little weird recently.”

Frisk shook her head, her long bangs swaying like ears. “It’s okay. We won’t be long here anyway, I hope. Just… think of me as your friend for a little while, will you?” She stretched out a hand towards him, and—

— he begins to reach for it, but he hesitates. Could this actually be happening? Frisk smiles and clasps his hand in her own, and he clings on to it like it’s the last solid thing in the world. He stands up with her assistance, and—

Asriel gave a small jolt and gasped. He found himself holding Frisk’s outstretched hand, although he did not remember reaching for it. She gave Asriel a concerned look, furrowing her brows.

“Did something happen?” she asked.

“I… saw you? I remembered… something…? I’m not sure what, though…” Asriel stood up and let go of her hand.

She uncurled her fingers, staring at her empty palm. “... How strange…” she murmured.

“What is?”

“Nothing,” Frisk said, looking up to face Asriel. “We should go—”

“Sorry, but,” Asriel interjected, “have you, er, been here before? I feel like I should… know you?” He felt awkward interrupting such a small, troubled child, but he felt compelled to ask the question he had on his mind. Well, the one that he found the most pressing, at least. He had far too many to count.

Frisk froze mid-sentence. She slowly closed her mouth, breaking eye contact as her gaze fell to Asriel’s feet. Her neutral expression morphed into one of consternation as a frown tugged on her lips. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, clenching tightly. Her fingers played with her loosely-fitted shirt, pulling on its creases. A sudden wash of guilt came over Asriel.

“H-Hey, if it’s too much, then you don’t have to—”

“I have…” Frisk whispered, just barely loud enough to be heard over the breeze and the distant chirping of insects. She pinched at the skin on her arms, her fingernails growing white from the pressure.

“You… know me?”

She nodded slowly.

“...How? And why… don’t I remember…?”

“I… I’ve known you— we both knew each other— for a long time. A very, very long time. M-Maybe, in a manner of speaking, even longer than I’ve been alive.”

His mind whirled as he desperately clawed his way through the molasses in the dark, looking for that one fragment of memory that might help him make any sense of the situation. Bits and pieces surfaced with painful slowness; a long hallway lined with purple brick, a small child strolling through fields of iridescent blue flowers, a horrific creature of nightmare, thorny vines and mandibles whipping and gnashing—

“In… in another time, we would be happy. Best… friends…”

Asriel’s breath caught at the mention of those words. The brambles lashed out at him, tearing at his fur as he desperately tried to shove them back. His heart cried out and his chest ached, old wounds reopening. Why did it have to be this hard? He had promised… promised to move on, but these feelings, these memories kept coming back again and again. He balled his fists, claws biting painfully into the skin beneath his fur. When he spoke, his voice was a tremulous whisper.

“Chara…?” He knew there was no way it could be, but still the question had to be asked. Stranger things had happened.

“I’m sorry, Asriel,” Frisk said. “Chara’s… gone. And I– I can’t be Chara for you.”

“I-It’s not your fault,” he said, sighing. Asriel paused. “You knew Chara too?”

“Not personally. Mostly… from you, actually.” She raised her head, giving Asriel a sad little smile.

“How did you…?”

“I-In another life… like a dream...” Frisk’s eyes began to water. She wiped them off with a sleeve, but the tears would not cease. “Have you ever had one of those nights, Azzy, where you’re c-curled up in bed, and you feel warm, and snug, and comfy, a-and you dream, you dream of wondrous things, of the s-stars and planets in the sky, of going to s-strange and f-fantastic places, o-of—”

Frisk choked up and let out a wail, crying her heart out. Asriel knelt before her and took her into his arms. She was so… small, and… warm…

“Y-You d-dream of sitting at a table, having a w-warm dinner with all your very b-best f-friends and f-family, and everyone was t-talking and l-laughing for hours and hours, and we were all s-so h-happy, so, sooo happy, and I f-felt… l-loved… And then, y-you wake up, and s-suddenly it’s all over, and you’re all alone, and it’s so c-cold and dark and f-frightening…”

Again the thorny vines thrashed in his mind. Chara and Asriel, best friends, beloved siblings, sharing a warm and cloyingly sweet butterscotch and cinnamon pie with their loving parents, the two of them being tucked into bed between cozy blankets, waiting until the door was closed and the footsteps petered away in the distance before gathering to plan their next escapade…

She sniffed loudly and swallowed, trying her best to compose herself before continuing. Asriel gently pat her back, like he used to do for Chara. He felt her uneven breathing slowly quiesce.

“It was the best dream that I’d ever had…” Frisk whispered, “and– and I didn’t want it to end… not so soon… not like that…”

Asriel took a deep breath, and the vines receded. A dream that ended too soon. Asriel ran his hand over Frisk’s back one last time and then held her tight.

“It’s okay. It’s all in the past now.” He didn’t know for whom he was doing and saying these things. For the both of them, perhaps.

Frisk wiped off the last of her tears from her face with his shoulder. “Thank you…”

“May I… would you like to be… my friend?”

“I… would be very happy to.” Frisk smiled at him again, and this time he felt it was sincere. “Even if it’s only for a short while.”

He pat Frisk’s left shoulder, standing up in front of her. It was nice, feeling like a brother again.

“Are you feeling better now?” he asked.

“Yes. For real, this time. Thank you.”

“So,” Asriel said, brushing off a few twigs and grasses from his jeans, “I think you were saying that we should go somewhere before I interrupted you, was it?”

Frisk nodded and walked around to beside where Asriel stood. She pointed to the flashes of light beyond the starless horizon, which had grown in intensity and frequency since he had last noticed them. “If… We should go there, I think. Will you… follow me?”

“D’you know what’s over there?”

“To be honest, even I’m not very certain. It is… somewhat difficult to remember.”

“Well, I’m at least as lost as you are, so we’ve got something in common,” Asriel said. He looked around at the park and the buildings surrounding them.

Other than the lights, nothing else quite stood out to him. A deep shadow came over them, as the moon once again ducked behind a large and heavy cloud. Behind the two of them, the road they had come from was dotted on either side with streetlamps casting their hazy, tenuous amber glow into the dark night. They were few and far between, just enough to outline a long, cobbled path which led out from the park and into the darkness.

A chill wind blew, and the trees and bushes made quivering, indistinct shadows in the gloom, like the shades of a dancing flame. Asriel shivered, an electric sensation which ran from the back of his neck and down each of his limbs. As much as he had tried to rid himself of it, he had always been a little afraid of the dark. He was extremely glad to have a friend of sorts for company in this ghost of a town, even if said companion was much smaller and younger than he was. Frisk tugged at his jeans.

“Let’s get going then,” he said. Anywhere was better than here. “Take the lead?”

She nodded and the two of them walked around the flowerbed, leaving the town park by an exit on the far end.

They walked side-by-side through the town in silence, guided only by the transient light of the moon and the dim, sputtering streetlamps. The chirping of insects faded away and was replaced by the low, monotonous buzzing of power lines as they drew further from the park. Asriel became acutely aware of the sounds around them; each and every one of their footfalls, the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze, the occasional twig falling from a nearby tree. His hackles raised as the feeling of being watched crept up on him once again, but everywhere he looked there were only empty houses and abandoned cars. Frisk, on the other hand, appeared to be rather unperturbed; as the older and taller of the two Asriel silently resolved to at least match her confidence.

After about five minutes of walking, he figured that perhaps playing the role of courageous older brother was not quite as easy as he had hoped. In another three, he found himself desperately wishing that he was several feet shorter so that he could hide behind Frisk without it being such an awkward affair.

Unable to bear the tension any longer, but equally unwilling to forsake his self-assigned elder brother status by asking Frisk to hold his hand, Asriel compromised, bending over and whispering to her.

“Hey… are you… familiar with this place?”

Frisk nodded. “It’s a little different from what I remember, but not by much.”

He, too, knew this town— the walk up to the garden, at least— but ‘a little different’ from what he recalled would have been something of an understatement. The town that they were in was larger and more developed than the one in his memories. It was still smaller than a city like New Home, but noticeably bigger than before nonetheless. The cobblestone roads were still there and the vaguely rustic feel of the place remained. However, he did not recall seeing the electric streetlights nor were there quite as many power lines as there were now. Many of the buildings were plain and unpretentious constructions of wood and brick, but between them were sleek, modern-looking dwellings. For a town that appeared to be devoid of all human life, the place was surprisingly well-kept, as if all its residents had all decided to up and leave at the same time.

“What do you remember?” he asked.

Instead of answering the question, Frisk stopped abruptly at an intersection to read the street sign. Asriel barely managed to stop himself in time before he tripped over her.

“This way,” Frisk said, pointing to where the road branched off to the left. She immediately made off in that direction without , and Asriel followed.

“Hey,” Asriel began, gesturing in the direction of the lights in the distance, “aren’t we supposed to be headed there instead?”

“I just wanted… to see something, before we go. Do you… mind?” Frisk glanced at Asriel, a pleading look in her eyes.

“Sure, why not?” he replied. There was no way he could refuse her request. Besides, it was not like they had much else to do except wander around this eerily quiet but assuredly not haunted neighborhood.

After a block or two, they stopped in front of a modest house which was fronted by a small garden that had been painstakingly tended to. The house itself was two floors of beige with rectangular windows neatly framed in white, topped by a roof of dark brown shingles. All in all, it was cozy and charming but entirely unremarkable save for the fact that the front door was noticeably taller and wider than those of its neighbors. Asriel played idly with a small piece of rock underfoot.

Frisk walked up to the waist-high— for Asriel— front gate and gave it a little shake. Finding it locked, she proceeded to climb over using the wooden slats affixed to it. A sudden wave of panic hit Asriel.

“Friiisk,” he whined urgently, “what if someone—”

Frisk, who by this time had already made it to the other side, turned and gave him a bemused look.

“—not...hing… G-Golly, you’re really good at climbing, aren’t you?” Asriel let out a nervous chuckle, wringing his hands. The little fragment of rock he was toying with suddenly became way more interesting than it had any right to be.

Frisk snorted, and Asriel proceeded to step on the rock, letting out a pained bleat.

“Are you coming?” she asked, trying her best to contain her mirth.

“R-Right, I’ll be right there,” he replied.

Asriel dislodged the piece of stone from his sole and stepped over the gate, all the while making a futile attempt at stifling his shame. At this rate, he would probably have his big brother license revoked within the hour. With any luck the moonlight was dim enough to conceal his blush.

The blinds of the house were drawn, and like the rest of the neighborhood, not a sound came from within. The two of them walked up to the front door, and Asriel knocked on it. Nobody answered. A second attempt likewise yielded nothing, and the shrill chirping of insects carried on unabated in the dry night chill. He tried the doorknob but found it locked as well.

“I don’t think that there’s anyone at home, Frisk.” He turned to his side, only to find that Frisk had vanished.

“Frisk? Frisk! Where are you? Hello?” he cried out, panic rising in his voice like a boiling kettle. Could someone have taken her? Were there actually gh—

A thump came from inside the house, and curtains billowed from an open window. After a short while, Frisk’s head popped up over the windowsill and she gave Asriel a thumbs up. Asriel sighed. If he was going to have any luck today, it would be dusting from fright instead of embarrassment.

Asriel hoisted himself onto the windowsill while Frisk went and replaced the short stool that she had been standing on. He landed on his back with an ungainly flop, knocking the air out of him. How Frisk had managed to climb into the house so quickly was an insoluble mystery.

He stood up with a loud grunt and surveyed the dark interior of the house. It looked like a comfy little place, just large enough to house a small family. A couple of puffy sofas sat in the living room where he was, and behind that lay the dining room and a kitchen. A flight of stairs near the dining table led upstairs.

Asriel closed his eyes. A faint noise caught his attention; if he focused, he thought he could make out the clattering of silverware, the warm crackling of a fireplace, the distant sound of children laughing happily. When he opened them, the house was once again cold and silent.

"Um," Frisk said, looking at him with concern, "are you okay?"

"Ah, sorry. I was just… thinking about things.” Asriel cast one more look around. “Why are we here again?”

Frisk’s expression was unreadable in the dark. “So you still don’t remember…?”

“Remember what?”

She fidgeted with her hands. “You’ll probably forget when this is all over, but for a while we… We lived… here… ”

“We… did?”

“Yes,” Frisk whispered. She made her way up the stairs, Asriel following closely behind.

They reached a short hallway with three doors. Soft light from the streetlamps outside filtered in through the thin blinds covering the windows.

Frisk gestured at the doors in turn. “Mom and Dad’s. Mine. Yours” She tried the doorknobs on the last two, but both of them were locked. There were no windows to climb through this time.

She sighed. “You still don’t remember…?”

Asriel shook his head. The sound of children laughing still echoed faintly in his head, but nothing, no sleeping Leviathan arose from the murky seas of memory.

“I’m sorry, Frisk. I just… don’t…”

“It’s okay. Perhaps… it’s better like this.” Frisk’s gaze lingered on the doors, her face outlined in profile by the light of the streetlamps, but her features cast in shadow. “Let’s go.”

They made their way down the stairs and out of the house without further comment. A pang of guilt seized him; it felt like he had failed this small child in some unknowable fashion.

The two of them traversed the finely manicured lawn and climbed over the small gate. Asriel had a leg partway across when he heard an indistinct murmuring coming from within the house. His hairs stood on end and he froze, unable to look back at the front door. The murmuring grew louder and more incessant. Beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead and back, matting his fur, and his heart pounded his chest like an anvil. Thumping footfalls came from within the house, in time with his heartbeat, drawing ever nearer. He heard a small, excited giggle.

A door slammed open.

Footsteps raced towards him, grass crunching with every pulse of his madly thrashing heart, and then they were right there, just right behind him, and a freezing chill radiated from the base of his neck and down the small of his back, and he heard the high-pitched voice of a child—

_Friiisk, wait up!_

Asriel whipped around. One of his feet caught between the wooden planks of the gate and he tripped, landing painfully snout-first onto the cold stone walkway parting the garden. He rolled onto his side and sat up, backing up against the front gate as fast as he could. He drew his knees to his chest, hugging them tightly.

He held his breath as his eyes scanned the house for any movement. The curtains were drawn, and the window they had left from shut. The front door was closed, like before. Everything was in place, and the house was silent. No phantoms patrolled the front yard.

Asriel let out a sigh of relief.

He felt a tap on his shoulder.

Asriel screamed and threw himself away from the gate, scrambling to face his assailant. Fear and excitement gave way to shame and indignation as he saw Frisk’s head peeking over the fence.

“Come on! Why’d you have to scare me like that?”

“Sorry,” Frisk said, between fits of laughter, “I couldn’t help it. You really haven’t changed a bit, Azzy.”

He sighed. Surely, this was the end of his career as a respectable older brother. Asriel hung his head as he got up and climbed over the gate. The two of them walked back onto the main road and towards their original destination.

The gloom of the town set in with each passing step, and any hope Asriel had of a conversation between the two of them rapidly petered out. The sky grew darker the closer they drew to the lights, and he lost track of time after passing street after street of nondescript shops and houses. With only his own thoughts for company, Asriel’s mind drifted, half-asleep.

He remembered greeting a small child— Frisk, perhaps— who had fallen into the Underground. He had done this multiple times before, but this time seemed… different somehow. For a moment, he remembered feeling angry, angry at having something precious stolen from him. But then he realized that perhaps, she could be used. His lips cracked into a smile. An unknown variable, ripe with potential.

She was in the throne room now, in that grey and lifeless hovel that they called “New Home”. Asgore, that slow-witted pushover of a ruler, stood before her. The fool. This was his chance. Six brilliant lights encircled him, and a rush of power surged through his body. He morphed and shifted, consuming everyone and everything in his path. He licked his newly-formed lips, drool leaking from his eldritch maw. Soon, it would all be his. In a little while, he would become—

The feel of cold dirt beneath his claws cut through his idle recollections, the solid stone roads giving way to soft loam and forest as they reached the edge of the town. Before them stood a forest, dense with trees and vegetation, an uncaring, impenetrable wall of darkness.

“Just a bit more,” Frisk said, pointing to a shallow dirt path that led into the trees and was quickly swallowed up by their long shadows. “Are you ready?”

Asriel nodded. He wasn’t sure how or what for, but he could feel the end draw near. He offered a hand to Frisk, who gripped it tightly. Steeling himself as best he could, he stepped with her into the looming dark.

An unnatural darkness engulfed them. Asriel could barely see further than the end of his snout. The moon overhead had vanished behind the unnaturally thick canopy, with not a drop of light leaking through.

A few steps into the forest, the ambient illumination of the town beyond the entrance dried up entirely, leaving him walking blind into a vast expanse of nothingness. The sound of insects cut off, and not even the sound of their footfalls could be heard. The sudden silence exerted a dull pressure on his eardrums, as if his head were underwater. A deep, encompassing chill surrounded him, cutting straight to the bone, and he could feel the moisture of his breath against his muzzle.

He tightened his grip on Frisk’s little hand. Her warm, smooth skin rubbed against his fur; his one and only anchor in this endless void, leading him ever onwards.

Deaf and blind in the dark, his mind played tricks on him, flashes of color and light appearing from nowhere and then disappearing into the nothingness. Familiar voices whispered beside him, just lucid enough to sound like conversation but morphing into unintelligible gibberish if he paid too close attention. A shadowy horned figure dressed in robes stood just outside of his field of vision, silently watching; if he turned his head fast enough he could almost catch a glimpse. The image of a massive, winged creature began to form before him.

With little warning, the forest parted, and light and sound rushed back into the world. The ground before them ended abruptly in a short, grassy outcropping. Beyond that— nothing.

“It’s the end of the world…” Frisk murmured.

“Where—”

A brilliant, multicolored light lit up the starless void as Asriel spoke, and there it was. A distance away, a transparent barrier made visible by the light spanned the horizon. Its surface rippled gently, like the underground oceans of Waterfall. Behind it, a giant, demonic beast floated in the air, frozen in time. Sinuous horns sprouted from its head, its torso tapering off downwards into a point and its cruel wings spread wide. Its arms were held forward, massive sweeps of prismatic light radiating from its palms. On its face were the dark markings Asriel knew all too well; its expression a tortured mixture of rage and sorrow. Asriel’s eyes widened in shock.

“It’s… me…” he whispered.

His heart pounded and his chest began to hurt again.

Frisk pointed to a tiny figure, only visible as a silhouette against the rainbow lights. She turned to Asriel, and he could see the faint beginnings of tears as she spoke.

“It’s… me…”


	9. Chains That Bind

Prince of Dreams. King of Monsters. Lord of Time. He was known by many titles, but went by only one.

Asriel’s breath caught as he looked upon the creature frozen beyond the veil.

How…?

His wound ached like never before.

He remembered.

A searing heat pulsed within Asriel’s chest. His vision went hazy with tears.

Frisk stands again before the king, her friends by her side. He smirks. All the pieces are in place for the final sacrifice.

_I’m so alone, Chara… I’m so afraid… Chara…_

Pain spread through every inch of his body, like molten steel running through his veins.

The six souls surround him. He can feel their determination, their power surging within him.

_It hurts… I can’t… feel… It hurts sooo muuuch..._

With each stroke of his heart he was boiling up from the inside.

The souls of every monster in the Underground. He can taste them. This time, he will be their MASTER.

_Someone, anyone, PLEASE, HELP ME!_

Asriel shrieked, his mind emptied of everything but the agony coursing through his body in relentless waves. He clutched his stomach and doubled over, his knees buckling.

“Asriel? AZZY—!”

He stumbled backwards and his legs gave way. The brambles burst from the wounds in his chest and back as he fell, tearing through his flesh and shirt. He screamed unendingly. The dark vines arced, punching into the dirt below, slowing his fall. His body trembled as his sclera turned pitch black and his horns curled, growing out into points. His talons and fangs lengthened into cruel daggers while torturous, twisted markings geminated from the hole where his heart would have been, covering his face and body in serpentine tattoos. His scream morphed into a monstrous roar, shaking the ground beneath Frisk’s feet. She lost her balance and fell into a sitting position, covering her ears and screwing her eyes tight from fear.

After what seemed like an eternity the feral howl faded, leaving only lingering echoes. Frisk lifted her head, and before her—

The Absolute God of Hyperdeath, adorned in robes of black, lay motionless upon a bed of thorns.

Frisk stood up nervously, legs trembling. Asriel did not move. She took a halting step towards him, and then another. Nothing stirred. The forest was silent.

Golden flowers sprouted amidst the sable thorns, dotting them like stars in the night sky. A petal withered before Frisk’s eyes, breaking off and floating gently to the ground. Frisk hesitantly stretched out her left arm towards the flower. She cupped it in her palm, and—

Asriel’s hand sprung into motion as his eyes snapped open. It tore through the brambles and seized Frisk by the wrist, clamping down on it like a vice. She cried out in surprise and pain.

The brambles twisted and shifted, slowly transforming into a throne of daggers. Asriel rose from his royal pedestal, the vines making a slithering retreat into the hole in his back, and dusted off the dirt from his robes while maintaining his grip on Frisk’s forearm. He crouched to meet her trembling gaze head-on, his golden irises glinting in the moonlight. Smiling broadly, Asriel flashed his ivory fangs. When he spoke, his voice flanged and warped, a guttural growl beneath every syllable.

“It’s me. Your best friend.”

Frisk whimpered.

Asriel casually extended his free left arm towards her. He pushed aside a strand of hair with a finger and locked eyes with her.

“Azzy… please…” she choked out, fighting back tears, “don’t… do this…”

He ran a sharpened talon down her cheek, ending below her chin. Frisk quivered, stifling a gasp. A thin crimson line formed on her skin and blood welled up from the cut.

Asriel licked his fangs. “Humans are surprisingly… warm…”

He clamped Frisk’s lower jaw between the thumb and middle finger of his right hand. His grip tightened and Frisk let out a gasp as his index finger caressed the soft flesh on the underside of her chin. He tilted her head upwards uncomfortably, turning it one way and then the other, examining her face from all angles.

“You’ll make a fine dessert, won’t you? Such… a delicious soul,” Asriel said languorously, his icy breath hitting Frisk’s face, causing her to shiver. “So rich… in determination…”

“Azzy… please… you have to s-stop… or else…” she croaked.

“Or else? Or else, what? Hmm?” Asriel giggled devilishly, throwing his head back, his laughter turning into a deranged cackling. He drew a breath and snapped his head forward, grinning at the frightened child caught in his grasp. “Come now. Try me. You’ll do what? Tell on me? Go ahead. Cry out for help. See if anyone comes.”

Frisk merely stared at him, her eyes watery, drawing shuddering breaths. She bit her lip.

Asriel’s grin soured and his eyes narrowed. “Well, aren’t you a real killjoy.”

He sighed and stood up, yanking Frisk off the ground by her arm. She let out a yelp of surprise, her feet suddenly dangling before Asriel’s waist. She kicked futilely at the air and struggled to free herself from his grasp.

“Ugh,” he spat, “can’t I enjoy myself, every once in a while? Oh well. Not like any of this really mattered anyway.”

The sinuous vines slithered slowly out from behind him and hung in the air. They bobbed gently, like serpents with fangs of thorn, hissing and spitting at the pale, wounded child.

“It’s the end,” he said, the snakes drawing back to strike. “Goodbye, Frisk.”

The serpents leapt forward.

A violent crack rang out through the night. A streak of bright neon blue shot out from the forest accompanied by a high-pitched whistling, the afterimage searing itself into Frisk’s retinas as she fell to the ground. Asriel howled in agony, clutching his right arm. A long, fluorescent spear, still crackling with energy, had stabbed clean through his forearm, lodging itself in his flesh. Several thick vines were skewered to it, the thorns buried in his fur. A thick red liquid oozed out from the wound and flowed down the weapon, dripping onto the grass around where he stood.

Asriel snarled and whipped around to face the intruder while Frisk backed away from him. A gleaming green eye shone through the darkness between the trees, accompanied by the clanking of heavy armor. He reached for the spear still embedded in his arm, and with a grunt tore it from his flesh, letting it hang in the air behind him. Determination dribbled from his wound in spurts as the vines reknit his body. The bits of writhing bramble once pinned to him fell to the ground and turned to dust.

Undyne stepped out from the shadow of the woods, clad in polished steel that reflected the moonlight, gills flared and bristling. A moment later, a short, yellow reptilian monster dressed in a laboratory coat rushed out from the trees and hid behind a nearby rock, peering out from over it.

Asriel tsked in irritation and flicked his hand in Undyne’s direction. The spear shot right back to its owner like a laser beam. Unflinching, she stood her ground. The weapon dissolved right before it struck her, the luminescent trail it carved through the air ending inches away from her face. She summoned a short spear in her hand, raising it to point at Asriel.

“This isn’t you,” Undyne said, her voice commanding and resolute.

“What do you know?” Asriel spat. He walked towards Undyne, holding out his arms on either side. The space around his hands warped and blurred as his twin blades shifted into existence.

“You’re no Azzy,” she said, striding towards him, pace quickening, spear at the ready. Her good eye glimmered. “Not the sweet, kind-hearted boy I knew. You. Give. Him. Back!”

Asriel chuckled. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong.”

Undyne lunged at Asriel, thrusting with her spear. He cut down and sideways with the sword in his right, deflecting her attack, while swinging the one on his left behind and above him. In the same fluid motion, he stepped forward and brought the blade down, slashing at Undyne. She retracted her spear at the last second, managing to catch his blade with the back half of its shaft moments before Asriel swung the other around and brought both to bear on her guard.

Undyne’s feet dug into the ground under the combined force of Asriel’s twin blades, her arms straining as they pushed back against him. His golden eyes sparkled with excitement.

“I hope you’re having fun,” Asriel drawled.

“You sick bastard.”

“You’re welcome.”

Undyne growled. Mustering her strength, she twisted her hips anticlockwise, shoving Asriel away from herself with a furious cry. He stumbled backwards, regaining his footing just in time to see the fluorescent turquoise point of Undyne’s spear stabbing right at his chest. Right before the tip met with his body, he swiveled on a heel and turned sideways. The spear missed its target by a hair’s breadth, scoring his black garment with its razor-sharp edge.

Asriel bared his fangs and swung with both swords at Undyne’s right arm. He was too close, inside of the spear’s effective range. Undyne bounded sideways a little too late in an attempt to escape his feral strike. She cried out in pain as the tips of the blades sliced through her armor and into her scales. It was like white-hot fire singeing her flesh, leaving a pair of thin, blackened gashes in their passage.

Asriel's wild swing left him momentarily exposed. Undyne grit her teeth and twisted her spear, adjusting her grip and launching the butt of her weapon at his abdomen. Too close to dodge, Asriel instead dropped the blade in his left hand to grab the glowing shaft. He stopped it just an inch from his midriff. The sword fizzled out of existence before it hit the ground.

Undyne cocked her head upwards, shooting Asriel a grin. His hand tightened on the spear and his brows furrowed for a brief moment at her expression, and then he was already swinging at her with the sword in his right, cutting straight at her neck. Her eyes glinted.

The strike never landed. Asriel screamed and tore his hand from the spear, leaping backwards. A short spike of green energy protruded from the shaft where his palm had been, now coated in a thick, dark fluid.

"Very clever," Asriel rasped, his voice rough and gravelly. He resummoned the sword in his left, dodging a swipe from Undyne. His mangled hand closed around the hilt and vines stitched together the wound as he spoke. "And here I had you pinned as the straightforward type."

"Keep your ego in check," Undyne spat back. She jabbed at Asriel with her spear and he sidestepped. "Just some friendly advice."

"Sounds like someone's enjoying themself," Asriel said as they exchanged blows. "So, I _was_ right, wasn't I?"

Undyne swallowed back a retort and refocused her attention on the battle.

Finding a small opening, Asriel chopped downwards with both blades. Undyne caught them both with the length of her spear. She grunted at the sheer force of the impact and her boots sunk into the ground, now muddy from their battle. Her arms strained under the immense weight.

“Azzy, stop… Please,” Undyne said. “This isn’t like you.”

“Oh, it is. I learned only from the best.” Asriel glanced around her and smirked. “And you know what else she taught me?”

Undyne’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“‘Hit ‘em where it hurts.’”

The blades vanished. Undyne staggered, losing her balance. Asriel ducked around her left, speeding past her stumbling form. A metallic shriek pierced the air as the two swords phased back into existence. Undyne whipped around with spear in hand and her eyes widened in panic.

"ALPHYS!"

Asriel closed the distance in a heartbeat. He spun, his blades dancing. Alphys froze in fear, cowering behind the rock for protection.

From the trees came the sound of rustling grass and footsteps, rapidly approaching the scene of battle. Undyne drew her spear back and filled it with all the power she could muster. Turquoise light arced from Undyne’s chest, up her arm and the length of the shaft, building at its tip as Asriel’s swords tore through the air. The first blade struck stone, splitting it clean in two, and Alphys fell on her back in her desperate attempt to scrabble away from his whirling onslaught.

At that moment, two figures dashed out from the forest, their size belying their speed, and one of them leapt forward an incredible distance. Asriel snarled and his blades shrieked, descending upon the hapless monster who had curled up into a shivering yellow ball on the ground. A striking blur of crimson energy materialized in the space between Asriel and Undyne. It swooped downwards just before a deafening crack split the night sky, Frisk covering her ears and wincing as the spear launched itself like a missile from Undyne’s gauntlet—

A huge explosion of dust and dirt accompanied by a tremendous blast erupted from where Asriel had been, and all went quiet save for Frisk’s coughing. She opened her eyes as the dust settled.

Asgore stood in his royal garb, his broad shoulders hunched over between Asriel and Undyne. He gripped his blood-red trident tightly, face shrouded in shadow. Its side was embedded deep in the dirt just behind where Asriel was standing. A deep, muddy gash in the grass began from its smoking prongs, gouging its way between Asriel’s legs before ending abruptly. Residual arcs of blue-green energy sparked and leapt from the trail, crackling like static.

Gerson, still clad in his khaki explorer's outfit, had inserted himself between Asriel and his prey. He held out his arms horizontally across his face, shielding himself and Alphys from Asriel’s blades. They bit into the hardened scales, but did not make further purchase. Asriel’s face contorted in an expression of rage, snarling as he struggled to cut through Gerson’s impregnable hide.

Gerson chuckled, his smirk visible through the gap in his arms, and looked up to meet Asriel’s furious gaze. “You got a lot to learn, young'un.”

Asriel glanced to his side and then sneered back. “You too, old man.”

In the blink of an eye, he had pivoted on a foot and advanced on Asgore, slashing at his neck—

“Asriel? ASRIEL!”

The shout rang out from within the woods behind him. Asriel froze. The blade stopped just inches away from Asgore’s neck, quivering.

Asgore quietly raised a hand.

Undyne hesitated, spear crackling with emerald light, ready to fire. A deep, guttural growl escaped her throat, but she acquiesced and ceased her advance, keeping her weapon trained on Asriel’s chest.

Gerson, who had been about to tackle Asriel from behind, stepped back from him and made a deep bow, his eyes never once leaving Asriel’s back.

Toriel ran out of the tangled forest just in time to see Asgore slowly lower himself to a knee, Asriel keeping the sword’s tip at his neck. She halted just outside the treeline, clasping her paws to her muzzle in a stunned silence.

For a moment, nothing moved but the trembling of Asriel’s blade.

“Asriel…?” Toriel said, her voice unsteady, shock and confusion bleeding through her fingers. “M-My child… what are you…?”

She took a step towards him—

Vines sprouted from Asriel’s back and leapt at Toriel, Gerson dodging to the side to avoid them. She let out a strangled yelp as they stopped just in front of her, hovering in the air. The brambles snapped menacingly, their razor-point tips dripping with dark red ichor. Toriel attempted to sidestep the stabbing thorns, but they mirrored her movement with ease.

“Please…” she tearfully pleaded, “let me through… S-Stop this…”

“STAY AWAY!” Asriel yelled, his voice choking. His eyes never left Asgore’s solemn figure kneeling before him as if to be knighted by his sword. He drew a shuddering breath, brambles bristling. “Y-You… YOU REPLACED ME! Replaced ME, r-replaced CHARA with those S-STUPID! FAKE! CHILDREN! I—”

“A-Asriel! I didn’t replace—”

“DON’T LIE TO ME! Y-You gave them our room, you gave them our b-beds, our toys, our clothes… our… love…”

Toriel’s face morphed into an expression of shock and dismay. “H-How did you—”

Asriel clenched the grip of his swords, his knuckles turning even whiter than usual. “I-I watched. I watched as you fed them your b-butterscotch-cinnamon pies, as you t-told them stories in my bed, as you cradled them by the fire when they were l-lonely… like they were your lost c-children… like me…”

“B-But I…” Toriel’s voice trailed off and she froze, unable to speak.

“And you…” he said to Asgore.

Asgore met Asriel’s gaze for a few seconds, before Asriel broke away.

“You… Why…? Why aren’t you doing a-anything…?”

Asgore bowed his head. “I… failed you, my son. Failed you, and Chara both.”

“Y-You…” Asriel choked out. “No… F-Fight me…”

The first time, it was simple strangulation, the thorny vines cutting into Asgore’s throat.

The edge of his blade touched skin, still quivering.

Undyne took another step closer. “Asgore!”

“Stand down, Undyne.”

“But—”

“I will not repeat myself again. Stand down.”

“Yes… your Majesty,” Undyne said through gritted teeth, maintaining her stance.

The second, impaled through the chest by brambles and torn in half.

“F-Fight me… or I will k-kill you…” Asriel whispered, his voice breaking.

Asgore met his gaze once again. “My precious son. I… have failed you as a father. I was… too absorbed in my duty to notice your’s and Chara’s pain. And in the end…” Asgore smiled sadly. “I failed the kingdom too, didn’t I?”

“N-No… y-you didn’t… fail me…” Tears ran down the markings on Asriel’s cheeks, burying themselves in his fur.

The third, slowly crushed to death by boulders.

He snapped.

“JUST FIGHT ME! HIT ME! MAKE ME H-HATE YOU! MAKE ME!”

“Asriel, if it will… satisfy you, then… take my life. It is yours. I do not deserve it.” Asgore closed his eyes, a peaceful expression on his face.

The sixth, by his own hand, after being lured to the Ruins and forced to witness Toriel’s cold-blooded murder.

“Why… W-Why won’t… why wouldn’t you ever h-h-hate m-me...? I-I’m… s-such a h-horrible person…”

And the very last time, ambushed while distracted by a kind child who had offered him mercy and a second chance at happiness. By then, Asriel had long since stopped counting.

“Because I love you, my son.”

Asriel’s blade pressed into the flesh of Asgore’s neck.

Undyne drew her hand back to strike, Gerson sidestepped the brambles, Alphys sat clutching her trembling knees to her chest, Toriel wailed wordlessly—

And from out of nowhere, a small child ran up to Asriel and wrapped herself around his leg, and he felt the sorrow and love radiating from her soul—

Frisk…? He mouthed the name, but no sound escaped his muzzle. Tears streamed off his cheeks. The brambles began to crumble to dust.

“H-Hate me… please… then I can h-hate you… so I can forget… f-forget h-how much it h-huurrtsss…”

The blades fizzled out of existence and he fell to his knees, Frisk leaping to the side. Asgore caught him in a wordless embrace.

“P-Please…” Asriel whimpered, weakly pounding Asgore’s arm with a fist, “H-Hate me… It hurts s-so m-much… I d-don’t wanna hurt a-anymooore… pleaaase…”

Asgore gently ran a giant palm over Asriel’s back.

“W-Why am I a-always so a-angry…? Why m-me…? Why…? It’s… n-not f-fair…”

Asriel drew a long, ragged breath. “I-I’m… s-s-soorryy…”

He wailed into the starless night.

It took a good while and many hugs from Asgore and Frisk before Asriel finally cried himself dry and settled himself enough to speak coherently. In the meantime, Gerson comforted the nearly hysterical Toriel while Undyne attended to Alphys. Snippets of conversation drifted in the light nighttime breeze.

“Are you hurt? Ugh. Why'd you have to run out like that? I told you to stay in the forest.”

“S-Sorry… I-I’m fine, just a f-few s-scratches… But you were sooo c-cool…"

“M'lady, it's over now. Everyone's safe. Yer son and Asgore are unharmed. Here, have one. Cry a bit more if you hafta."

"M-Mmmh… I-It is alright. I am… better, now. Thank you for the offer, but I am not particularly fond of mints."

"Son… Take your time. I do not know everything that happened, but it must have been terribly difficult for you."

"Were… W-Were you… serious? Did you a-actually mean it?"

A faint "Nyeehh" came from the treeline and out stepped Papyrus, dragging Sans along the ground by the nape of his tattered blue hoodie. He was panting heavily, a strange sight for a skeleton with no skin, lungs, or other relevant organs to speak of.

“The Great… Papyrus… is here! What… did I miss?” he said between breaths.

There was short silence during which everyone stared at Papyrus, collectively attempting to figure out the best answer to give him.

“Ummmm, m-mostly everything, a-actually,” Alphys finally pointed out.

Undyne shot her an irritated look.

“Everything?” Papyrus’ gaze turned to the long, narrow gash on the ground near where Undyne was sitting. “Did you guys fi—?”

Undyne quickly repositioned herself over the suspicious trail and gave Papyrus a smile, sweating nervously. “We were, er, having… a party? Iiiit was great!”

Papyrus’ eyes lit up. “Wowie! A party? Where’s the cake?”

“E-Erm, we er, finished it?” Alphys said. She tapped her claws together anxiously. “S-Sorry?”

“Ughh. Sans! Look what you’ve done! It took me so long to drag you here! How can you call it a party without cake?!”

“Heh, they sure ‘handled’ that ‘cake’ though,” Sans said, “Showed it who’s boss.”

Asriel blushed and dragged a toe through the dirt.

“And how, dear brother, would you have known? Hmm?” Papyrus shot Sans a demanding look.

“Errrm... I watched?” Sans shrugged nonchalantly, still planted comfortably on the ground.

“You watched? You weren’t even facing the right direction! Or even awake! How could you have even been watching?”

Sans turned and wiggled his bony fingers at Papyrus. “Maaagic.”

Papyrus released his grip on Sans’ hoodie and facepalmed. Asriel thought he saw a few faint blue wisps dissipate into the air around Sans’ shorts. “Sigh. One day, Sans, you’re going to have to stop sleeping all the time. You even slept through your own birthday!”

“Welp, I did?”

“Saaans! How could you forget? I even made spaghetti for you!”

“Heh, you make spaghetti all the time, bro.”

“Harumph,” Papyrus said, folding his arms. “It was special birthday spaghetti! With chocolate sprinkles! And this salty dark sauce I found in the garbage dump!”

“Sounds delicious.”

“And it was! You wouldn’t recognize good food even if it knocked on your door for breakfast, lunch and dinner, picked up your socks, cleaned your room, and did your laundry!” Papyrus threw up his arms in resignation. “And when did you even get so heavy?”

Sans grinned, and shrugged once again. “Dunno. I’m not heavy, just big-boned.” He shot Papyrus a wink, earning him a tired sigh of exasperation.

Gerson, who was still standing with Toriel some distance away from the rest, nodded to Asgore. The boss monster acknowledged him with a raised palm and leaned over and whispered into Undyne’s ear. She looked surprised for a second, then nodded as well.

Undyne stood up, careful to always maintain her position between Papyrus and the conspicuous tear through the grass of the outcropping.

“Papyrus! Arm-wrestling! Now!”

“Challenged by the great Guard Captain Undyne herself? Wowie, this is my lucky day!” Papyrus saluted, and scanned the outcropping. “Over here?”

“Um… over there!” Undyne pointed to a patch of grass near the forest that looked no different from any other.

“But there’s nothing to rest our elbows on, Captain Undyne!” Papyrus said, still holding his salute.

“Never stopped me! Now move it!”

“Yes ma’am! If I win, will you let me into the Royal Guard?”

A twinge of guilt crossed Undyne’s face, but it passed as quickly as it came. “You’re already in it, though? I’ve been giving you lessons!”

“But you’ve only been giving me cooking lessons, Undyne! Ma’am!”

Undyne laughed. “Ha! Eating is a warrior’s job, so cooking is a warrior’s duty! Can’t fight on an empty stomach now, can you?”

Papyrus nodded enthusiastically. “The Great Papyrus does not actually have a stomach, nor does he actually need to eat, but he whole-heartedly accepts your explanation! Metaphorically, of course. To battle!” He pumped his fist and they walked to the place Undyne had indicated, Alphys and Sans tagging along.

Once the four of them were sufficiently distant, Gerson walked with Toriel over to where Asriel, Frisk and Asgore were sitting, and then left to join Undyne and the others. Frisk began to stand, but Asgore motioned for her to stay.

“I-It’s none of my business,” Frisk said. “This is between the three of you.”

“No, Frisk. We are grateful to you for bringing us together again. This very much is your business as well,” Asgore replied.

“Why?”

“You are family to us as well, my child,” Toriel said as she lowered herself to the ground. “As I have learned, I cannot make you feel that way, but… I truly hope you do.” She smiled sadly at Frisk.

Frisk opened her mouth as if to object, but instead sighed and sat back down. The four of them sat cross-legged in a small circle, facing each other, with Frisk and Asriel sitting side by side. Asriel hesitantly placed his arm over Frisk’s shoulder, relaxing when she did not seem to take issue. Asgore, on the other hand, alternated between glancing at Asriel and the ground while Toriel nailed him with a frosty stare. An awkward silence hung over the four of them, no one quite willing to broach conversation.

After about a minute of chilly silence, Asriel mustered his courage and spoke.

“I—”

A loud “Ngaaah” came from where Undyne and the others were, and the four of them turned their heads just in time to see Undyne bless an unsuspecting tree with one of her legendary roundhouse kicks. For a moment it seemed as if that all the kick had succeeded in doing was to rustle the tree’s leaves, but a gentle shove from Undyne sent the tree falling to the ground where it splintered in two. The others cheered.

Both Asgore and Asriel chuckled at the sight, while Toriel let out an amused huff. Frisk’s expression remained impassive, but Asriel thought he saw hints of a smile. He took the opportunity to speak before the mood soured.

“I… I’ll get to the point. I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For what I did and said. And for the… things Chara and I did so long ago,” Asriel said. He played nervously with his fingers. “And for, um, other things,” he mumbled.

Asgore seemed lost in thought for a moment before he spoke. “It is done now,” he said, gently patting Asriel on the back. “We shall move on. Apology accepted.”

“And I… didn’t mean the things I said, Mom.” But he did, didn’t he? The doubt remained. “It wasn’t fair of me.”

“My child… I did not mean to cause you grief, but perhaps…” Toriel tugged at the hem of her robes. “Perhaps you were not all wrong.”

“I take it back, Mom. I’m sorry.”

Toriel leaned over and wrapped Asriel in a warm hug. He melted in her soft, fluffy arms. It had been so long…

“I am so glad to see you again, my child.”

“Me too.”

She stroked Asriel’s back, nuzzling the fur between his horns. It had been a long day. He was drifting. He could fall asleep like this, wrapped in her arms by the cozy fire, listening to tales of the surface…

“But how did you know…?” Toriel whispered.

He tensed up, and Toriel ceased her ministrations.

Her face grew sullen. “Never mind… I should not have asked…”

Asriel withdrew from her embrace. The night had suddenly gotten a lot colder.

“Maybe… not now,” Asriel said. He examined the grass by his feet. It was an interesting shade of green.

The sound of cheering reached his ears, and he looked up to see Undyne standing over the fallen tree trunk with her arms wrapped around it in the beginnings of a suplex. It was not particularly clear which part of this activity involved arm-wrestling. Asriel smiled despite himself.

There was one more apology to make. He turned to Frisk.

“I’m—”

Frisk buried her face in Asriel’s tattered robes before he could complete his sentence.

Asriel tentatively returned her hug. “Frisk…?”

“There’s… no need to apologize to me,” she murmured. Her small arms tightened around him.

After a moment's pause, he did the same. “I'm sorry."

There was a massive thump and another loud round of whooping as Undyne successfully suplexed the tree, planting it into the ground a few feet in front of the stump.

“Um… Tori?” Asgore timidly ventured, tugging at his own fingers as he spoke.

“What is it now, Asgore?” The words were sharp but weariness and resignation had crept into her voice, taking off a little of the edge.

“How are… Are you… doing alright, d-dear?”

Toriel folded her arms. “I have been doing perfectly fine, thank you.”

“Ah.” Asgore tried to force a smile which quickly withered at the sight of Toriel’s frown. His pauldrons drooped as his shoulders sunk. “I suppose that is… good to know.”

“Indeed.”

Asriel looked back and forth between his parents. Asgore pulled out a few blades of grass and hunched over, staring at them while he rolled them between his fingers. Toriel kept her back straight and arms crossed, dissecting Asgore with her silent gaze. Eventually, he let the intertwined stems fall back to the earth.

“It has been quite a pleasant surprise to meet—”

“Get to the point, Asgore,” Toriel snapped, narrowing her eyes. “I know what you want.”

Asgore closed his eyes and drew a deep breath before speaking. "I am sorry for… how I chose, all those years ago. I failed as a leader. I failed as a father. And… I failed you, Tori." He bowed.

"And?"

"And I beg your forgiveness. Please."

"And what makes you think I can forgive you?"

"Mom…" Asriel whispered, freeing himself slowly from Frisk’s arms.

“You stole them,” Toriel continued, voice shaking with anger. “You stole my children, Asgore.”

Asriel shook his head agitatedly. He knew where this was leading. “Mom, please… I’m right here…”

Toriel’s voice rose to a teary shout and Undyne and the others fell silent. “You STOLE MY CHILDREN, over and over again, and then you MURDERED them.”

There was a loud whisper from Papyrus, who was quickly shushed.

At the word, Asriel’s stomach sank and bile rose in his throat. Toriel continued.

“What makes you THINK you have the R-RIGHT—”

Asriel leaned across and grabbed Toriel in a hug which she did not reciprocate. “Please… Mom, you have to f-forgive Dad, like you did me, o-or else it’s n-not… f-fair…”

Asgore hung his head. “You are right, Toriel. I do not. I am sorry for asking.”

Toriel’s voice weakened, but her tirade did not abate. “And what kind of s-stunt were you trying to pull there? Trying to k-kill yourself? To get your dust on my s-son’s hands? Just so you can assuage your guilty conscience, i-is that it? You MURDERED them, Asgore. MURDERED them. What makes you t-think your life is w-worth—”

“And what would YOU have done, Mom?” Asriel cried out, unable to bear the verbal flaying any longer. He tightened his embrace. “H-How many human s-souls do you think M-MY life is worth…?”

Toriel’s breath caught and she choked back tears.

Her voice broke. “I didn’t s-say… I-I don’t know… I don’t know… Everything… I-It’s all w-wrong…” She wrapped her trembling arms around Asriel’s lean frame.

“Truce?” Frisk whispered. “For Asriel…? Please…”

Toriel hesitated. Then, she nodded into Asriel’s back and let out a small whimper, her fingers digging into his sides.

Asgore shuffled closer to the two of them. “If I may…”

Toriel nodded again.

Asgore wrapped the two of them with his massive arms in a bear hug. Lodged between his long-lost parents, Asriel closed his eyes. He was warm, and comfortable, and finally… content.

“Asgore, Asriel… I’m… sorry…”

And for a little while, the logs crackled merrily in the fireplace, and the warm smell of baking wafted in from the kitchen, and the old, junky radio played its humble tune.

“I love you, Mom, Dad.”

For a little while, all was right with the world.

The sound of lively chatter drifted to Asriel’s ears. Had he slept? He rubbed crusty tears from his eyes and found his head in Frisk’s lap, looking up at her chin. She seemed to have noticed his movement and looked down to meet his gaze, stroking his fur.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

He cast his eyes to the horizon. The moon was beginning to set, and the faint hints of dawn were peeking out through the endless darkness. Ripples of light played across the surface of the barrier, shimmering and refracting in its alien beauty. The winged beast hovered, silent and impassive, majestic and cruel, caged in its temporal prison. Waiting.

“Just one more?” he asked.

She nodded. “One more person to be saved.”


	10. The Last Dream

Asriel pushed aside the oversized purple cloak draped over him, and yawned and clapped his cheeks to dislodge the sleep from his countenance. Brushing down the makeshift blanket, he folded it into a neat, if sizeable, rectangle and placed it in his lap. Asgore had left the massive golden pauldrons and winged clasp in a pile on the ground beside Asriel as he had slept. Asriel picked up a pauldron and attempted to fit it on himself. It was rather heavy, about twice too long and wide for his shoulders. The piece felt surprisingly uncomfortable despite how loosely it fit. Was the fancy bit with the engraving supposed to be in the front or the back?

“How’s it feel being king?” Frisk asked.

“Dunno, kinda weird,” he replied. “Doesn’t quite sit right with me.”

“I think you made a great king.”

“After all the stuff I’ve done? No way. If I had any say in things I’d abdicate for sure. That’ll be my first ruling as King Asriel the Amazing, first of his name.”

Asriel took off an imaginary crown from between his horns and placed it on Frisk’s head, giving her a slight bow. He cleared his throat, puffed out his chest and lowered his voice, attempting his best impression of Asgore. “‘Howdy! For my first royal decree, I, um, King Asriel, hereby forfeit my throne. The kingdom belongs to you now, Cha—’”

The corner of Frisk’s mouth twitched as Asriel caught himself.

“Sorry,” he said, visibly deflating. “I didn’t mean to.”

Frisk sighed softly and shook her head. “It’s fine. I understand it’s difficult.”

Asriel fiddled with the crest, turning it over in his hands, watching the moonlight catch in its metallic curves. “You’re so much like Chara, did you know? Smart, well-spoken, funny, erm, intelligent, same fashion sense… It’s almost unnerving, really.”

“I’m not Chara, Asriel.” Frisk looked away. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. It’s just… hard. Sorry.”

Asriel lay the crest on the cloak in his lap. He silently ran the fabric through his fingers.

“Thinking about something?” Frisk asked.

“Yeah.”

The last time he had seen this cloak, it was tattered, covered in dust.

“I just don’t think being king really suits me. I… shouldn’t have that kind of power. I don’t deserve it.” Asriel sighed. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t want it.” He let out a hollow chuckle and rapped the pauldron he was wearing with a knuckle. “Responsibility rests heavy on the shoulders and all that, yadda yadda. Mine don’t even fit right, heh.”

“You’ve got those on backwards, you know?” Frisk said, the beginnings of a smirk on her face.

“Huh?” Asriel removed the gold-leaf shoulder piece and examined it. “So the pointy bits go forward?” He turned it around and replaced it on his shoulder, but it ended up sitting at a strange angle. “Like this? Doesn’t feel right though…”

“Pfft,” Frisk snorted. “No, that one goes on your left, silly.”

“Oh.”

“You’ll figure it out someday.”

Asriel took off the armor and lay back down on the grass, propping up his head with his hands. “If I get to see another, I suppose. Honestly, despite everything that happened, I’m just happy I got to see Mom and Dad again. I can live with that.” He snorted wryly.

A silence fell over the two of them. Asriel watched the faint first glimmers of sunrise cast shadows on the beast behind the barrier. It was so strange, so unreal.

After a while he realized that Frisk was staring intently at him, hands clutching her chest and biting her lip.

“Golly, you alright?”

It took a while before she responded, her gaze never leaving Asriel’s face.

“A-A second chance,” she whispered. “I can—”

“Hey, Azzy! You’re finally awake.”

Asriel turned to see Undyne walking up to them, armor clanking with each step. She came to a stop beside him and sat down, resting her arms on her knees.

“Yeah,” he replied, stretching his arms and letting out a long yawn. “Just did. Did Dad ask you to check on me or something?”

“Yup. They’re over there,” she said, pointing over her shoulder. Asriel looked in the direction of her thumb. Toriel and Asgore sat on the grass by the edge of the world, off to the side past where the outcropping ended. They had positioned themselves some distance away from each other, their legs dangling off into the void. Asgore’s head was lowered, his expression sullen, while Toriel stared intently at the barrier. Neither of them spoke.

“Um… are they okay? They didn’t fight again, did they?” Asriel asked, whispering in spite of himself.

Undyne shrugged. “Hard to say. They talked with Gerson for a bit, and they seemed happy for a little while. Or at least, not at each other’s throats.”

“You know what they said?”

“Nah, wasn’t invited.”

“Really? That’s weird.”

“Um, well, to be honest, I kinda… sat it out.” Undyne stamped down on a loose clump of dirt. “I don’t think Toriel’s gonna like me much once she learns what I did.”

“Why not?” Asriel asked, cocking his head. “You were around when, um, I was, right? They should both know you well enough.”

Undyne sighed. “Let’s just say that Gerson and I might have had a… mildly violent disagreement over the handling of fallen humans at some point. Didn’t part on the best of terms.”

“Ah.”

“Anyway, after that Gerson left them to join Papyrus and Alphys. And that’s where they’ve been for the past hour or so. Haven’t moved since.”

“They didn’t talk?”

“Nuh-uh. Not a word. I mean, I guess it’s still a step up from Toriel chewing him out,” Undyne said, shaking her head. “Poor guy.” Her eyes widened for a second. “Oh. Sorry. I forgot who I was talking to.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, waving away her apology with a hand. “I’m the one who asked.”

“Aaanyway, I should be the one asking if you’re okay.”

“My head hurts a bit, but I’m otherwise fine, I guess.” Asriel tugged at an ear. “Er… I’m… sorry about what I did just now, too.”

Undyne’s eye twitched for a second. “Eh, forget it, it’s over. ‘Sides, you weren’t really yourself.”

“No but– see, I was.” Asriel frowned and bit his lip. “How do I put it…? When I remembered, it felt like… who I _am_ right now caught up with who I _was_ , and I wasn't… I’m not a good person. I dunno. It was pretty overwhelming, really, all these emotions and memories I’d forgotten for so long…” He scratched his head, noticing Undyne’s eye wandering. “Sorry, that probably didn’t make any sense.”

Undyne threw up her arms. “Look, I have no idea what you just said and I couldn’t give a damn, really. I put a hole through your arm and hand each and nearly one more through your head, so let’s just call it even, capiche?” She took off her gauntlets and stuck out her arm in an offer of a handshake.

Asriel smiled despite himself. Undyne really hadn’t changed much since when he was alive. He grabbed her webbed blue hand with his fluffy white paw, and they shook on it. Undyne’s face broke out into a wide grin, her pointy yellow teeth gleaming. She pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing him against the cold hard metal of her armor, causing Asriel to let out a little “hurk”.

“I thought I’d n-never see you again, you fluffy dolt,” Undyne whispered. “Welcome back, Azzy.” She gave Asriel a firm pat on the back and he whimpered.

“Too tight… can’t breathe…”

“Suck it up, punk," Undyne said, crushing the life out of Asriel with the force of her affection. “I missed you. We all did.”

“I think Azzy’s going to faint,” Frisk pointed out.

Asriel gave Undyne's side a weak tap in submission. "H…elp…"

Undyne shrugged her shoulders. "Well, that's his problem, not mine." She tightened her already suffocating hug.

"I don't think Toriel and Asgore will be very happy to realize that their child has been smothered to death so soon after meeting him again." Frisk smirked. "At least give them a few years?"

Asriel raised a weakly trembling arm. "Fr…iiisk… p…lease…"

"Ehh, they already had their turn. And that hug was at least ten minutes! Over three people! That's like, er, thirty hug minutes?" Undyne replied.

Frisk laughed. "Pretty sure he'd be dead by then." She shuffled closer to Asriel and gave him a little pat between the horns. "Sorry, Azzy, I tried.”

Unable to respond, Asriel just let his head hang limply over Undyne's shoulder and his arms by his side.

After another agonizing minute or two, Undyne finally released Asriel and he collapsed into a heap of black robes and snowy fur, his stubby tail sticking out from the lump of goat like a little fluffy white flame. He gasped for air and clutched his sides.

"Owwww…" Asriel groaned, kneeling doubled over in pain. "Golly, you still go all in all the time, don't you?"

Undyne cackled as she stood up and helped Asriel to his feet. "Hah! 'Course I do! You've got to put your soul and your passion into everything! If I didn't, I wouldn't be this awesome!" She attempted to curl a bicep in front of Asriel while he tottered unsteadily, before realizing that she still had her armor on.

Asriel snorted as he teetered to his left, clutching his head. "Looks like you gotta put more _soul_ and _passion_ into that flex."

Undyne's bright yellow eye narrowed to a slit as she ground her fist into her palm. "Picked up some snark, didya? You asking for a suplex, kiddo? 'Cause you're gonna get one," she growled through her teeth.

"Well," Asriel said, closing his eyes, placing a hand on his chest and putting on smug airs, "I _am_ a diligent and attentive student, as is only befitting the Prince of Monstaaagghhh—"

In the blink of an eye, Asriel's legs were swept out from under him and he found himself rapidly accelerating towards the ground. Before he knew it, he was face-down in the grass, one hand behind his back in a pin and the other clutching his aching snout. Asriel let out a pained whimper and snorted in some dirt before coughing it out.

"So, Mister 'Best Student' still can't remember to break his fall right," Undyne said with a sneer. "Maybe you should pay more attention, hmm? Props for the acting though; you almost sounded smart for a moment there."

Asriel turned his head to look directly at his armored captor. "Gee thanks, good to know that all the time I spent practicing impressions didn't go to waste.” Asriel smirked and cleared his throat. "Fufufu! I'm Undyne, and I looove fighting and suplexes, but I can't cook for nuts! NgaAAAAUGGHH OW OW ow s-stooooppp—"

Asriel thrashed frantically with his free limbs until Undyne deigned to stop twisting his arm and digging her knee into his back. Her good eye gleamed golden as she snarled.

"Drop and give me a hundred– no, a thousand! Now! NGAHHH! And you don't understand cooking! Your wimpy recipes don't have any FIRE to them! Cooking is about—"

"—Soul and passioooAAAAAGGGHHHH I-I'm s-sooorrrryyy… I give uuuuppp ow ow ow—"

Asriel’s misery was prematurely ended when Frisk rapped her knuckles on Undyne’s right pauldron and pointed behind her. Undyne turned her head to see Gerson standing with his arms crossed and a quizzical look plastered on his face. She immediately spun around and stood at attention. Asriel crumpled into a pile of furry mush on the ground with a soft thump while Frisk crawled over to him to make sure that he was still conscious.

“Sir Gerson,” Undyne said stiffly.

Gerson cut eyes at the boss monster lying inert on the outcropping behind Undyne, being prodded by a small child with a stick. “Yer doin’ some trainin’ here?”

“U-Um kind of… yes? Sir?”

Gerson laughed and slapped her arm causing her platemail to rattle loudly, which was no mean feat considering how heavy it was. “Wahaha! That’s the spirit! Yer always my best student, Undyne. I’m glad that yer the one I passed my position down to.”

“My pleasure, Sir.” She snapped her hand into a salute.

Gerson returned the gesture. “At ease. No need fer formalities, I’ve retired. Just Gerson’ll do. And liven up a little, wontcha? It’s been a while since we’ve talked.” Gerson took off his cap, revealing a few strands of thin white hairs that swayed in the breeze. He spun his hat idly on the claw at the end of a wizened green finger.

Undyne hesitated, balling her fists. “But… aren’t you upset with me?”

“Wha?” Gerson scratched his head with his free hand, parting the wispy fibers. “Ehhh, yer have to remind me, my memory ain’t the greatest these days.”

Surprise tinged Undyne’s voice and crept into her stolid demeanour as she leaned ever so slightly forward. “Don’t you remember? In the palace. You know, after we stopped the third child’s little dusting spree. We fought over how we should be handling any… future arrivals. I remember you got kinda mad and left the palace a few days after that.”

A look of recognition crossed Gerson’s face. “Ah! That. Ter be frank, I was pretty miffed at the time, at you and Asgore both.” He sighed. “But well… I’m just a crusty, sentimental ol’ fool who can’t hold a grudge to save his life. When yer lived as long as I have, yer ain’t got the energy for that. So relax, wontcha? It’s all over now.”

Undyne breathed a sigh of relief. “Couldn’t you have paid us a visit? Where’d you go, anyway?”

“Ehh, New Home’s a bit too far off. Didn’t feel like travellin’ all the way from Waterfall.”

“Aren’t both your homes in Waterfall? You didn’t bump into each other?” Frisk asked.

“Well, I just moved in there not too long before you arrived,” Undyne said, “and, uhh, I stay in the palace when I accidentally burn the place down? Eheheh…”

Asriel raised a finger. “Soul and passion,” he murmured, face still buried in the grass.

“Did you say something, punk?” Undyne growled.

“Huh? Noo.”

“Good. Now gimme fifty. Discount rate.”

“What—”

Asriel’s protest was interrupted by the butt of a spear to the back of his head. “Get to it! NGAHHH!”

Undyne turned back to Gerson. “Sorry about that.”

“Wahaha! No problem.” Gerson looked over Asriel’s cowering form once more. “He sure seems sassier than I last remembered. Ahh, good to see you chose a student with your spunk. Ha! Makes me feel like I’m two hundred all over again!”

Undyne sighed. “I’m not sure when he became such a pain. Seems like just yesterday he was an excitable fluffy boy, and today he’s an excitable fluffy boy who can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“I can too!”

“Case in point.”

Asriel rolled over and propped himself up on his arms, meeting Gerson’s gaze. “Mister Gerson? I, um, probably owe you an apology too. Sorry. Thanks for stopping me.”

“Eh, no big deal. I’m jus’ glad everyone made it out alright.”

"I—"

Gerson lazily waved a hand. "Keep yer apologies. It's all good."

"A-Actually," Asriel said, scratching the fur on the back of his hand, "I'd never gotten to see you fight when I was little, and I just wanted to say that you were, um… pretty cool back there?"

"Ha! Thanks, kid! Guess I haven't lost my edge yet!" Gerson stepped around Undyne and crouched beside Asriel.

“Um, if you don’t mind me asking, aren’t you the Hammer of Justice?”

“Sure am. What about it?”

“Erm… aren’t you supposed to have a hammer or something?” Asriel mimed striking the air. “Undyne has plenty of spears.”

"Hammer of Justice? Bah." Gerson grinned broadly, flexing an arm. "I _am_ the Hammer of Justice."

The corner of Asriel’s mouth quivered as he tried to contain himself. “Ah. Er. That’s… very cool. Yes.”

Undaunted, Gerson lowered his voice to a whisper and locked eyes with the Asriel, who swallowed nervously at the sudden attention. "Say, if yer like what yer see, I'm free after dinner on the morrow." He leaned in until he was just an inch away from Asriel's muzzle and made eye contact, waggling his bushy eyebrows. "What say you? Hmm?"

Asriel froze with his mouth open, slowly turning pink from the neck up. "W-Whaaa…? E-Er… I-I’m g-gonna be cooking— Owwww!”

Gerson cackled as he removed his finger from the tip of Asriel’s snout, while Undyne folded over, laughing at the top of her lungs.

Asriel huffed indignantly. “Stop poking it, it's sensitive! I'm a huge pushover, okay, I get it!"

"Never change, Prince Asriel, never change," Gerson said, flashing a wide grin.

Undyne recovered from her fit of laughter long enough to speak coherently. "Hey, if Gerson gets to be cool, then what about me? I'm the coolest, right?"

Frisk gave her a thumbs up and nodded. Asriel, still clutching his aching protuberance with both paws, sneered and stuck out his tongue instead.

"Hah! As if! You're not cool, you're hot!"

Everyone went quiet. Undyne blushed faintly while Asriel's expression went blank and his face slowly drained of what little color it had left.

"Nonono hold up I didn't think that through—"

"WAHAHAAA!" Gerson roared, clutching his stomach. "Whooh! My word, Undyne, you sure picked up a feisty one! Hah!"

Undyne covered her mouth and snorted— or at least gave her best impression of one given her lack of a nose. "Pfft. Thanks for the compliment, kiddo. Boy, am I glad Alphys didn't hear that or she would've fainted!"

Asriel flopped over on his side and pulled his ears over his face, digging it into the dirt. "Kill me, Frisk. I want to die."

"There, there, Azzy," she said, consoling him with a pat on the shoulder. Asriel closed his eyes and sighed into the grass.

“D-Didn’t hear what?”

Undyne spun around to see Alphys waddling up towards her with Papyrus in tow. “N-Nothing!” she stammered out, grinning nervously.

“Salutations, my companions!” Papyrus said, waving to them as he approached. “Dear friend Alphys here has been educating me all about humans and their strange and arcane cultural rituals. Did you know that sometimes—" he placed a hand by the side of his mouth, as if to deter some imaginary eavesdropper, and lowered his voice to a loud whisper, "— _they eat food without cooking it first_? Gasp! Fascinating."

A hint of surprise crossed Frisk's normally stoic expression. "Wow," she said, "that's actually right?"

"What?" Undyne interjected. "What's even the point in that? It’ll just taste boring! Where’s the CONFLICT and VIOLENCE? How is anyone supposed to taste the passion in your cooking if there isn’t even any cooking?"

Papyrus crossed his arms and nodded his head vigorously. “Yeah! Just like in that show that you told me about! If I remember right, the main character is transported to an alternate dimension upon consumption of a magnificently passionate strawberry soufflé, so they embark on a dangerous quest to bake the perfect pastry in order to return to their home realm!”

Undyne frowned and furrowed her brows. “Hmm… sounds familiar, but I don’t recall? I’ve probably lost track. It can’t be Mew Mew Kissy Cutie, though I think they had a cooking episode in there…?”

Alphys’s face lit up like a lightbulb. “O-Oh, oh, I know that one! That’s the best episode in the first cour of the show in my opinion (which is like objectively correct if you even consider yourself to be a _real_ fan of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie) and it’s the one which Mew Mew gets invited to a cooking competition where she has to like make the best 豚カツ (it’s pronounced _tonkatsu_ , that’s Japanese for breaded pork cutlet by the way) that she can manage without using her magic powers of course because that would be too easy really (“Ah yes,” Asriel interjected, “one does not simply cheat their way into the world of fine dining.”) BUT THEN she gets sabotaged by the judges who are secretly in cahoots with her opponents and they actually provide her with low-grade cuts of pork instead which is like extra unfair because the opponents knew beforehand what they were going to cook and—”

She froze halfway through her spiel and then sighed, twiddling her claws and staring at the grass. “You all weren’t even really t-talking about Mew Mew Kissy Cutie, were you? I’m s-sorry I keep doing this, p-please carry on.”

Undyne grabbed Alphys in a hug and lifted her clear off the ground.

“U-Undyne?” Alphys squeaked.

She squeezed Alphys tightly, nuzzling against her scaly hide and rubbing her cheek. Before putting her back down, she gave her a little kiss.

Alphys, in turn, gave a small squeal of delight and clutched her cheeks, blushing a deep red. “T-Thanks…?” She looked to Undyne expectantly, confusion plain on her face.

“It’s one of my favorite episodes of all time, you know. I’ve told you that before.”

“Yeah… I-I guess. Given all the other anime you like to watch, i-it’s still hard to imagine that, though…”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” Undyne asserted. “Mew Mew Kissy Cutie doesn’t have enough action in it, but just because it doesn’t do everything my way doesn’t mean it still isn’t my favorite anime of all time. It’s got a ton of heart where and when it really counts, and I wouldn’t change a thing about it.” She smiled at Alphys, who blushed again.

“S-Shucks,” Alphys replied, walking up to Undyne and hugging her around the waist. “Thanks, Undyne, you’re the best.”

“You too.” Undyne knelt and returned Alphys’ hug, giving her another peck on the cheek. “Oh, and Alphys?”

“Y-Yeah?” she answered, brows furrowed in confusion.

“The part where Mew Mew presents her cooking to the judges, that was AMAZING! I could TASTE Mew Mew’s passion through the screen! The build-up to that moment was _perfect_ and it just goes to show that if you put your heart and soul into it, you can do ANYTHING! Even cook without ingredients!”

Alphys perked up instantly. “OMG I love that whole arc sooo much it's like just sooo clever how they managed to set up Takahashi be the antagonist even though _everyone_ knows that you’re supposed to ship the main character with the long-lost childhood friend and there was so much foreshadowing that I’m still picking up things on my sixth rewatch!”

“We’ve reached peak literature,” Asriel murmured. “It’s only downhill from here; god help us all.”

“Yeah!” Undyne continued, apparently having missed Asriel’s remark. “And I totally fell for it! There were some signs that I feel real dumb for not realizing, but at the time I one hundred percent thought that it was going to be a happy ending and then BAM! Takahashi says, ‘I’m sorry Mew Mew, but you’re going down.’ Man! That reeeallly got me!”

The two of them went on to gush breathlessly about the show, with a brief tangent into whether Mew Mew Kissy Cutie would be considered a deconstruction of magical girl or shounen cooking battle tropes.

Papyrus turned to Gerson and spoke in a loud whisper. “Aren’t they cute together?”

“Uh-huh, sure are. Hah, not too long ago I’d’ve bet that Undyne woulda never gotten a partner. But I’m glad I was wrong.”

The two of them sidestepped the overly excited couple and stood before Asriel and Frisk, neither of whom had moved much in the meantime.

“Greetings!” Papyrus said to the large mass on the ground. “I have been informed that you are one and only Prince Awesome Asriel, am I right?” Frisk stifled a giggle while Gerson gave an unrestrained snort of laughter.

"Who told you to call me that?” the lump of fur demanded.

“Why, Sans, of course! He was instructing me in the proper etiquette for greeting monster royalty. He may not look the part, but he is very smart and well-versed in knowing things that he probably has no business knowing about,” Papyrus said, beaming with pride. “Unfortunately, he is also well-versed in not knowing things that he really should, like the fine art of not being a complete mess!”

Of course it had to be Sans.

“Could you not call me that? Please?”

“Why of course!”

“Thanks.”

“If I may ask, Prince Awesome, why are you eating the grass? Surely it can’t taste very nice before it’s cooked.”

Asriel sighed. Nothing was going to go his way today, it seemed. “I’m a goat. It’s delicious,” he said flatly.

“Ah! I shall keep that in mind the next time I make spaghetti for everyone.” Papyrus scratched his chin, staring into the void. “I wonder if it goes well with that sauce I found for Sans? Or maybe at the end, as a seasoning…”

“Pleeeaaase dooooon’t,” Asriel moaned into the ground.

Gerson bent over, hoisting Asriel up to his feet and dusting off his robes. “Come now, yer still ‘ave a job ter do, dontcha?” Frisk nodded in agreement.

Asriel turned to look at the barrier. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “No, you’re right.” He turned back to the old tortoise. “Thanks.”

“Getcha’ self together, son. You can do this.” Gerson grabbed Asriel’s shoulder and shook it firmly.

Asriel winced at Gerson’s grip. “I… I hope so. ” He managed a pained half-smile.

Before Gerson could reply, Asgore ambled over, followed closely behind by Toriel. Undyne broke out of her heated conversation with Alphys and snapped into a salute, Gerson casually following suit. Alphys seemed to become more and more flustered as the two of them drew near.

“Your Majesties,” Undyne said.

“At ease,” Asgore replied.

Asriel raised a paw in greeting. “Hi Mom; Dad.”

“It seemed like the lot of you were having fun, so we didn’t want to interrupt,” Asgore said. His gaze settled upon Asriel, examining him intently.

“Er… is something wrong, Dad?” he asked. “I know the black marks haven’t quite gone away, but… I feel fine, really.”

“Um, how do I put this…” Asgore pointed to his own muzzle. “Have you been eating grass again, son?”

Undyne snorted despite trying to restrain herself and Toriel giggled quietly.

Gerson burst out in laughter, slapping his stomach. “Wahaha! I remember that now. Good times. Read one too many books ‘bout them surface animals, you did.”

“Wow, Prince Awesome, I didn’t know you had been a goat for so long!” Papyrus exclaimed. “If but only you had told me earlier, I would have come adequately prepared with a feast for all of us!”

“Daaaad!” Asriel cried out, indignant and stamping his feet. He tried to scrub out the bits of dirt and grass stuck to his muzzle with his paws, achieving limited success. “Come on, not in front of everyone else! Please!”

“Ho ho, I am just teasing, Prince Awesome,” Asgore said, patting the sulking Asriel’s shoulder. “Are you feeling better now? You fell asleep almost immediately; you must have been absolutely exhausted.”

“Yeah, I was. I’m doing much better now, thanks.”

“I am relieved that you are well, Asriel,” Toriel said. “You would not believe how worried I— the two of us were.”

Asriel lowered his gaze, idly flattening out a crease in the arm of his robe. “I’m sorry again… for everything.”

“It is alright, my child. The situation was perhaps… too much for any of us to handle.”

“Let us put it all behind us, shall we?” Asgore proposed.

Asriel nodded silently.

He felt a tugging on his robe and looked down to see Frisk clutching Asgore’s cloak and armor pieces. He took them from her and passed them to his father. “Ah, thanks Dad for, er, tucking me in, as well. It’s… nice to see everyone again. Like this. Kinda overwhelming, really. ”

Asgore slowly donned his cloak and replaced the golden pauldrons and clasp with Undyne’s aid. “Such is how the both of us feel, Asriel. It’s been such a long time, hasn’t it? You’ve grown so much. Your mother and I are both so proud of you.”

“We missed you, my child,” Toriel said, smiling sadly. “And we will always love you. No matter what may come of this, always remember that.”

“I will, Mom.”

Asriel realized he’d forgotten one last thing. He turned to Alphys, who was standing beside Gerson and staring intently at his parents with a strangely vacant smile on her face.

“Alphys?” he said, trying to catch her attention to no avail. A small drop of drool trailed from her mouth and down her chin.

Asriel waved his hand in front of her face. “Hello? Alphys?”

Gerson elbowed her in the shoulder and she snapped out from her trance.

“Huh? W-What?” Alphys said in confusion before realizing who had been talking to her. She hastily wiped her mouth with a sleeve. “Er… Yes! A-Asriel! You, er… d-didn’t see a-anything… I hope…?”

Asriel smirked. “Nope, of course not. Not at all.”

“Oh My God. I’m s-sorry.” Alphys buried her face in her palms.

Asriel waved his hand. “Never mind that. I, uh, just realized that I didn’t get around to apologizing. So… Sorry about… attacking you and having to put you through that. Sorry.” He sighed and palmed his forehead. “Ugh, that sounded better in my head,” he muttered.

“I-It’s fine.” Alphys extricated her face from her palms and looked up at Asriel. She gave him her best smile, which at the moment turned out to be rather sweaty and inconstant. “I shouldn’t have been there in the f-first place anyway. And, erm…”

“And?” Asriel cocked his head, now curious.

Alphys suddenly became more agitated than she already was. “I t-thought you were… uhh… ehehehhh…”

“You thought I was…?”

“You were, er…” Her consternation grew to a fever pitch. She covered her eyes, sweating buckets.

"Go on…"

“HHNNNNGGGHH OH MY GOD,” Alphys yelled, “WHY AM I EVEN SAYING THIS I AM GOING TO KILL MYSELF BUT I THOUGHT YOU WERE VERY COOL WHEN YOU WERE FIGHTING AND MAYBE EVEN A LITTLE BIT C-CUTE BUT IN A SCARY WAY OKAY??”

There was another short pause, and then everyone save for the flabbergasted boss monster and the flustered reptilian broke out into fits of raucous laughter. Even Frisk had doubled over, clutching her stomach. Asriel just stood there dumbfounded with a blank look on his face, unable to quite process what had happened.

Asriel heard Undyne’s voice penetrate his stupor. “So Alphys,” Undyne said, laughing between every other word, “who are you going to be shipping Azzy with now?”

“O-Oh god Undyne d-don’t ask me that p-pleaaaaasseeee…”

Shipping? What was that? He had read about ships in books about the surface, but what did they have to do with anything?

Asgore walked up to Asriel and clapped him on the back, nearly winding him. “So it seems that my son has fans now. Well done, Asriel.”

Asriel sighed, planting his face into his hands. “I want to crawl into a corner somewhere and die.”

“Now, no need to be embarrassed. I am very happy that your new friends like you so much. Undyne was really excited to have you back, too.”

“I guess.” Asriel massaged the left side of his chest with a paw. “My ribs were not happy to meet her, though.”

“She was always an enthusiastic one. Life in the Underground never got to her, not one bit.” Asgore stared into the distance, his expression neutral. “As far as I could tell, anyway. It has been a long while since those training sessions of hers, hasn’t it?”

“How’d you convince Mom to let us go in the first place? I bugged her about it a lot but she didn’t let me until you spoke to her.”

“Well… That is a long story, I suppose. I certainly was not persuasive by any measure. I just think my presence… reminded…”  
Asgore trailed off as he turned his head, breaking eye contact. Off to the side where Asgore was looking was Toriel’s hunched-over figure. She had been laughing hard enough that tears were streaming down her cheeks. Asriel swallowed.

“You know, when I was your age, I would spar with Gerson every week,” Asgore whispered, staring straight through Toriel into the forest beyond. “Every week, without fail, Tori would come with her lunch and sit under the great oak tree to watch me as I fought. To be perfectly honest, I do not know if it helped or not. Most of the time it would end up with me getting bowled over in my britches.”

Asriel had a brief vision of his father lying face-down on the grass, a vine speared through his chest.

“But Tori laughed,” Asgore continued, “and that made me happy regardless of how many times Gerson would win. In the end, it was only after my very first victory that I found the courage to approach her.”

Asgore closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. He laid a gentle hand on Asriel’s shoulder. “I apologize, this old fool is rambling again. We are both very happy to have you back. I just wish that—” Asgore cut off, covering his mouth with a hand.

“It’s okay,” Asriel said, staring at the ground. “I understand.”

“I am sorry. I should not think any of that. I do not—”

“Dad, please,” Asriel pleaded, his voice breaking. “It’s fine. I–I want to…”

He froze mid-sentence, mouth open. No. How could he possibly help? If Asgore thought himself beyond Toriel’s grace, then what was he? There was no way that anyone could ever forgive him. How could they, when they didn’t even remember? Only Frisk would know.

“No,” Asgore said. “Do not worry about me, son. I can live with this. You are back, for now, and that is all that I need. Thank you. I love you very much.” He gave Asriel a tight hug.

Asriel balled his fists. They wouldn’t understand. He watched as his father withdrew and turned to leave and join the others, his royal cloak billowing in his wake. But… if by some strange twist of fate, one miracle would follow another… maybe, just maybe— it would be worth trying.

He lunged forward, grabbing Asgore by the wrist. “Dad, I—”

Asgore halted in his tracks and turned to face Asriel, his expression inscrutable.

“I… If I can, I want to… help.”

“It is alright, my son. This is not your burden. You have done enough—”

“No, it is.” Asriel summoned as much resolve as he could before continuing. “I want this. I want to help you, and Mom too. Please.”

Asgore sighed and gave Asriel a sad smile. “I suppose I cannot stop you, can I?”

Asriel shook his head. “I want this as much as you do.”

“Then… I do not deserve this, but… thank you. Thank you son.” Asgore pulled Asriel into another smothering hug and patted his back. “T-Thank you.”

Asriel wrapped his hands as best as he could around his father’s torso, closing his eyes and letting the tender warmth envelop his body. It was all he ever wanted.

Asgore gave Asriel one last squeeze before releasing him. He wiped his eyes with his cloak and walked back to where he had been standing earlier, a small smile on his face.

The laughter died down. It was unclear whether Alphys had fully recovered from her ordeal, but at the very least she had managed to unstick her hands from her face. The seven of them stood before Asriel, waiting. None of them spoke.

“So…” Asriel began, breaking the silence.

“Is it really time, my child?" Toriel asked. "Frisk filled us in while you were asleep.”

“She did?” Papyrus whispered to Undyne, who quickly shushed him.

“I think… I am ready now,” Asriel replied.

“If you should so wish, I would not mind staying a little longer,” Asgore said. “It was good to have you back once again, in the company of all our friends. But, I do not think this choice is up to us to make.”

Toriel nodded. “There is no hurry to come to a decision, Asriel. If you choose to stay for a while longer, we would not fault you. Take your time, my child. We have all the time in the world.”

Asriel closed his eyes.

No.

It had to be now.

If not, he would never want to leave, ever again.

“I am ready.”

Was he?

He clenched his fists. “It is time… for monsters to go free.”

When the dream ends, a new dawn shall come.


	11. All the Lights in the Sky Are Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. It's changed a lot, but this is the chapter I set out to write from the outset. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did putting it to paper.

Asriel turned to face the horizon. The barrier rippled in the waning light of the moon, under a sky on the precipice of day.

Just one more person to be saved… but what then?

The light emanating from the hands of the beast gently waxed and waned in reply.

But why him?

There was no answer.

Asriel felt a scaly hand rest on his shoulder. He turned his head to find Undyne standing beside him, carrying her loose gauntlet under her left arm.

“Azzy,” she said, “are you sure about this? Really sure?” A tinge of… sadness? Desperation? Laced her words.

Asriel looked her in the eye. For someone that usually wore her heart on her sleeve, her expression was strangely difficult to read. Joy, fear, gratitude, sorrow. Determination. A stoic front, but what did it hide? Perhaps she was holding back for his sake. It was hard to tell. Her fingers closed tightly around his shoulder, and a small shiver ran through his body.

Asriel’s voice wavered. “I… I am, Undyne.” He cast his eyes to her feet, hands playing with the smooth velvet of his dark robes.

Undyne drew a deep breath, holding it and closing her eyes. Her arms fell to her side and she clenched her quivering fists, her mouth an unreadable line.

Why him?

Asriel swallowed. “I’m… sorry.”

He began to take a step away from her, but before his foot touched ground Undyne had already taken two and drawn him into a rough hug, pinning his arms to his sides. The gauntlet rattled as it fell to the ground, bouncing off her spiked boots and rolling into the grass. Her embrace was firm but unlike the last one he had received from her, not suffocating. The tension in his arms and back melted away as he rested his chin on her shoulder, a small smile on his face. With what little freedom of motion he had left, he returned her hug.

“Thank you,” he said. Undyne did not reply, but nodded instead.

After a too-short moment, she released him and took a step back, putting an arm across the flat of her stomach and the other behind her. She gave Asriel a deep bow, as deeply as she could manage in her armor. His eyes widened in surprise.

“I understand,” Undyne said. She spoke to Asriel in the same formal and respectful tone that she used when addressing his father. “I serve the royal family. If that is your choice, Prince Asriel, I will not hold you back.”

Asriel froze, then slowly raised his right hand, fingers together, extended straight out. Shouldn’t Undyne be the one initiating? It was probably not the right thing to do, but who really knew what that was, anyway? At this moment, it felt right.

Asriel stopped as his hand reached his eye level, arm bent at the elbow. He had seen Undyne perform this ritual many times over, but this was his first. Why wasn’t Undyne doing anything? His arm trembled as he held the pose. Had he done something wrong? Did he—?

Undyne returned the salute. “At ease,” she said, a wry smirk forming on her lips. “Chin up, recruit. Good try, but keep your elbow at shoulder height next time.”

“Sorry,” Asriel said, hastily dropping his hand to his side. He had embarrassed himself, as usual. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a small smile form on the faces of his parents. At least some good had come out of it. Asriel smiled to himself.

Undyne stepped around Asriel and picked up her gauntlets, putting them on. Asgore and Toriel walked up to him, standing beside each other.

“We are both so very proud of you, my son.” Asgore leaned over Asriel and pulled him into his purple robes, his oversized arms fully encircling Asriel and then some. His embrace was firm and reassuring; the strong hands of a king, and a father. “I hope we will meet again someday, Asriel.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Asriel’s hands shook, but he did not let his voice waver. “We will.”

_As old friends…_

Asgore released him and stepped back, while Toriel stepped forward.

“We love you, my child. Please, forgive us. We love you so much, you cannot understand.” Toriel leaned into Asriel, and wrapped her arms around his chest. Her embrace was soft and tender; the loving hands of a queen, and a mother. “I only wish for you to be happy, Asriel. To see you smile, once more…”

“Thanks, Mom.” Asriel sniffed and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his robe, smiling. “W-We will… be happy…”

_… under the starry skies._

Toriel finally let go. “Be well, my child,” she whispered.

The chill night air filled the spaces left behind. Asriel pulled his robe tighter around him.

“Lead the way, son,” Asgore said, stretching out his upturned palm, “and we shall follow.”

Asriel swallowed and nodded, clenching his muzzle. He faced the beast in the distance and drew a deep breath, filling his lungs.

“Is Asriel going somewhere?” he heard Papyrus whisper.

“You’ll see. Just stay together in the center, near Frisk and Alphys, okay?” Undyne replied.

Asriel exhaled slowly, feeling his heart still momentarily. He walked to the very end of the outcropping, which narrowed gently to a point, the others following behind.

And on the final precipice  
at World’s End  
where the land itself  
fell  
  
away  
  
  
into the gaping maw  
  
  
  
  
  
  
of the infinite  
  
  
  
  
  
  
sleeping  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Void,  
  


Asriel Dreemurr

Prince of Dreams

King of Monsters

Lord of Time

ABSOLUTE God of Hyperdeath  
  


stood alone.  
  


And never had he felt so small.

He bent down to pick up a small rock and held it over the edge, before letting it go. It fell, striking an invisible plane in the empty space before his feet and then gently sinking into it, drowning in a vast, starless ocean. Faint ripples of light spread from where it struck.

Asriel knelt, gingerly sticking out a paw to touch the surface of the transparent sea. His heart pounded. Instead of water, his fingers felt solid ground, smooth and cold like a window on a rainy day. Multicolored light radiated from where his fingertips met the void, silently rippling outwards before fading into nothingness.

He turned to face his companions. His parents stood at the head of the group and Undyne and Gerson at its rear, surrounding the others in the center. Their expressions were resolute. Asgore gave him a nod and Asriel did likewise.

For the last and final time, Asriel faced the barrier— faced himself— and stepped off the edge.

The glassy ocean rippled beneath the pads of his feet as he walked, leaving an ephemeral, iridescent trail in his wake. The others followed suit, soon leaving the world behind.

But why him?

The unanswered question haunted him. Had he done the right thing, made the right decisions? Why did he have to choose? Why was it so hard? Why couldn't he just be happy?

But he had been happy. Once upon a time, when a little human child fell into the underground. And then finally once more again, on the grassy outcropping, surrounded by all the faces that he once knew and loved, and who loved him back in return…

His heart ached.

_Wait just a little longer, my child._

_Son, if you wish, we would be happy to have you._

_I serve the Dreemurrs, and will not question you if you stayed._

_We all missed you so much._

And so did he…

Where was he going? Moving on, but to where, and to what end? Why?

His fists shook as he balled them. He felt his eyes grow moist.

But why him?

Why now?

Why so soon?

Why was it so unfair?

_I don't want to let go…_

Why did it have to hurt sooo much…

"Frisk—!" he heard Gerson and Undyne yell in unison.

Asriel turned his head in time to see his parents do the same, but Frisk was too small and too fast. She dodged around them, a pained, teary-eyed expression on her face—

"Asriel!" she yelled, running towards him, kicking up arcing, luminescent droplets with her footfalls. "I—"

Asriel heard a hollow rush of air behind him and he froze. A fragment of vine, about as thick and as long as Asriel's arm, tapered at one end to a knifepoint, shot past his shoulder. It tagged his robes and grazed the fur on his right cheek, embedding itself silently into the transparent plane just in front of Frisk, vibrant waves of color bursting from the point of impact. She yelped and threw herself backwards, wincing as she landed on her side. Frisk struggled to sit up as a panicked Toriel rushed over to attend to her.

Asriel suddenly felt a stinging pain, an uncomfortable warmth on his cheek. He raised his hand to touch it. When he pulled away, a dark crimson, viscous fluid clung to the pads and the fur on his paws.

Soothing pulses of healing magic surrounded Toriel's hands while she stitched together Frisk's wounds. "Frisk, my child, what were you thinking?" she said, incredulous, "You could have been—"

"Asriel!" Asgore yelled, "Behind—!"

There was another woosh of air and Asriel spun around, a shining white sword materializing in his right hand. A spiny, obsidian bolt cut straight through the air at his face. He swung his sword upwards in a full arc across his body as he turned, its afterimage a searing bright blur against the void. The blunt edge of the blade smashed into the bolt, spraying sparks of pure white light into the air. The impact shuddered through his whole body but he powered through it, yelling a wordless cry as he completed his swing. The side of one of its many thorns caught on the face of the blade and it sailed into the darkness above the group.

Asriel let the sword rest by his side, breathing heavily from the sudden rush. Where had that come from? He scanned the inky void for any signs of movement. It was becoming hard to keep his eyes on any one spot for too long. Away from the prismatic light radiating from the beast’s palms in the distance, the darkness was so absolute that his gaze would wander and slip away to brighter pastures. There was nothing save for the tranquil undulation of the barrier, its gentle waves rolling into infinity. He summoned his other sword, gripping the both of them firmly.

“W-What was that?” Alphys said.

“I don’t know,” Undyne replied. “Stay close. You too, Paps.”

“Whaaat? What did I do?”

Toriel made her way to Asriel’s left, having finished treating Frisk to her satisfaction. “Asriel…” she said, running her hand across the stained fur on his cheek.

The wound itself was shallow and had healed quickly, but the ichor had not yet fully dried. Concern was written plainly on her face.

“What is this…? Are you alright?”

“I… I’m not too sure.” Perhaps it was the best answer under the circumstances.

“Let me at least—”

Suddenly, innumerable flashes of crimson light in the distance cut through the night, all along the barrier.

“Watch out!” Asriel cried.

There were many. Too many of them. Was there enough time? They screeched through the air, covering the distance in a second. Had he been too slow? He raised his sword on his right to prepare his attack, energy crackling within, but they were so close, and—

Gerson dashed in front of Frisk and Alphys, wrapping them in a protective embrace under his shell while Undyne and Asgore stood guard around them and Papyrus. Toriel raised her hands, and in an instant a tremendous wall of flame erupted all around them. Its scorching heat enveloped his body and penetrated his fur; the wrath of an angry, loving mother. Volley after volley of the thorny lances struck the flames. They crumbled into ash by the time they passed through but did not relent.

“Is everyone safe?” Toriel yelled over the sound of the roaring flames.

“Yes!” Papyrus yelled back. “Wait! Where’s Sans?”

“Over here bro,” Sans replied.

“AAAH! SANS! WHERE WERE YOU?”

“Eh, 's just taking a nap.”

“This is not the time for your japes, Sans! I was worried! For a very short moment! But still!”

Before either of them could get another word in, there was a strange crackling, hissing noise, accompanied by the scent of something indescribably foul burning. The two skeletons ceased their bickering and scanned for the source of the sound. Asriel spat and wrinkled his snout. The pungent smell made him want to heave, and it seemed that his parents had the same reaction.

All of a sudden, thin, sinuous brambles pierced through the wall of fire.

“Look out!” Undyne shouted.

The brambles darted, lashing out and stabbing at whomever was nearest or most convenient. The monster combatants tightened their formation around Gerson, who was still protecting Alphys and Frisk with his shell and hide. Shifting walls of bone materialized from thin air, forming shields against the endless waves of thorns. Some of them were rebuffed; Asriel could hear the hollow ringing as they struck. But for every vine that failed to penetrate the ossiferous barriers, another punched through with ease.

Asriel danced, blades flashing, trailing brilliant white from his swords and chromatic ripples from his footsteps. He grimaced as thorns sliced his left forearm, and then again when a stray vine slipped past his blades and tore at his right side. Ichor oozed slowly from his wounds, but he would manage. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Asriel cut down the biting serpents again and again, his midnight robes billowing as he spun. The onslaught of vines and brambles was unceasing; each time one was struck down, another took its place in endless recurrence.

"What do we do now?" shouted Undyne, her voice carrying over the cacophony of the battle. "They just keep on coming! We won't last very long at this rate!" She grunted as vines struck the glowing green shield she had just summoned to protect herself, before dropping it to swing with her spear. It cut a deep swathe into the malignant thicket, the cruel vegetation almost seeming to recoil in fear.

"Pull out the weeds by the roots," Asgore bellowed as he swiped with his trident, "or so I've learned from my years of gardening." He stabbed at a vine, spearing it on the trident's prongs with pinpoint precision. It withered and shrivelled before dissolving into dust. "Asriel, you must go now. Use our power, and take with you our blessing."

"And our love, my child. Our love," Toriel added. She spoke calmly and quietly, but somehow Asriel caught every word. Her soft voice belied an immense intensity behind her words.

The nearby vines burst into flames at her gaze, and all the while, the wall of fire never abated for a single moment.

"Always remember that."

Asriel swallowed. "But—"

"Go forth, my son,” Asgore said. “It was good to have you back, even if only for a little while."

"Wherever you may go, whatever you may do, my child, we shall always have you in our hearts."

"Seeya, punk! We'll meet again, I promise!"

"Thank you," Asriel whispered. "I promise."

He turned and took a step in the direction of the horizon, and then another, his pace quickening, slicing the intruding vines with his swords.

There was the sound of scrabbling from behind him.

"What's happening?" he heard Frisk cry out. "I can't see what's going on— let me go, Gerson! Please!"

By then, he had broken into a fast jog, then a sprint, trailing a bright path across the surface of the void. The fires parted before him, and he could see his final destination: the Barrier, and beyond that, the Absolute God of Hyperdeath himself. Two vines shot in through the opening at him and he slashed outwards with both blades, cutting them apart with ease. He felt a tremendous force, filled with love and compassion, building inside of him. As he stepped across the searing perimeter, he risked a glance over his shoulder just to see his friends one final time.

Though they were neck-deep in the midst of battle, they were smiling.

"Change the world, little prince!" Gerson hollered. "We believe in you!”

Asriel nodded, turning forward and breaking into a run, holding his swords beside him. There was no going back now. He seized the burgeoning power within him with all of his being—

"Asriel! Wait! I haven't—"

—and from his back, great radiant wings of the purest white light sprouted, unfurling themselves, their form angular and menacing, from tip to tip as wide and majestic as the beast's own. He kicked off the ground with a foot, and then he was flying, darting towards the horizon. He sped above the starless ocean, his wings tucked in behind him and his ears flopping wildly in the headwind. For a moment he thought he heard shouts of encouragement and a whooping cheer of "Prince Awesome!", but that too was quickly lost to the wind rushing through his fur, snatching the sound away.

Innumerable vines erupted from the barrier itself, aimed straight for him; the vicious bolts did not relent, either. The tell-tale flashes of light came once again, and then the spears of thorn shot right at him. A bolt grazed Asriel’s arm and he winced, the thick, bituminous ichor trailing from the wound as he flew. He dodged to the left, then to the right, bolts missing him by fractions of a hair, whizzing by his fur and robes and harmlessly planting themselves into the transparent plane below him in explosions of light and color.

Another barrage rushed in just from his left just as he turned in that direction. Asriel grunted as he tried to swerve away from them against the force of his momentum, his head spinning from the sudden acceleration. In his confusion, he noticed the ebony lances a shade too late. Several of them punched holes through his wings, tearing through the luminous membranes. Asriel reeled from the impact and cried out in agony, lurching to the left and into the path of a stray projectile. It cut through the air straight at his chest. He steeled himself against the pain and rolled to the right, shivering as the wind in the bolt’s wake caressed his robes.

Then came the vines. They were slower than the lances that had been thrown at him, but tracked his every move in the air, shifting their aim with each turn he made. He propelled himself forward, charging at the brambles head on. In seconds, they were almost upon him. He cut downwards, swooping towards the glassy surface of the void. The brambles wooshed over him, then slowed, their trajectory folding in on itself.

A few of the vines crashed noiselessly into the obsidian ocean as they dipped and hooked around to chase after his tail. Asriel accelerated, leading the pursuing vegetation by fractions of a second. He thrust upwards and rocketed into the sky, gradually pulling away by inches before slowing and arching backwards into a freefall. The vines chased him as he dove, swooping back and down until he was once again level with the ground. Asriel laughed as he shot forward, fangs and sabers bared. He ran his blades along the twisting thorns just below him, and with a fell swoop cleaved through the brambles where they had curved upwards to follow him. The serpents writhed in agony, the trailing vines lashing out at his feet in a futile attempt to tear into his flesh before dissolving into dust and ashes.

Having wrested a momentary respite from his attackers, Asriel stretched his limbs and channeled his power through himself, grimacing as the holes in his wings and the wounds on his body slowly mended. In the distance, by the barrier, he could see another volley being readied for him. He beat his wings and tucked them against his torso on either side, tearing across the void with renewed vigor.

A tremendous roar pierced the night. It rang in Asriel’s ears for long after it ended. The vertical sea cutting across the void frothed and churned, the space around it shimmering and distorting as something stirred within. For a moment, all went silent, the glassy depths suddenly quiescent like the calm before the storm. Then, with the sound and the fury of a million waves crashing against the shore, the shape of a massive, demonic skull protruded from the surface of the barrier before the beast suspended in time, making it look miniscule by comparison. Horns of darkness sprouted from it, curling outwards and tapering to points unseen. Its eyes were two indentations in the barrier, like windows into an endless abyss.

The Leviathan of the Void split open its feral maw, baring countless scything fangs at Asriel. It laughed; an indescribable, twisted _something_ that seemed to rend the threads of space and time itself. The world shook, and Asriel screwed his eyes tight from pain as the sound washed over him, piercing his being like a dagger.

The Leviathan roared again, colossal claws birthing themselves from the barrier. It swiped at the air, and the vines and bolts shot forth. Asriel burst towards it like a bullet, a thin streak of light splitting the inky canvas of night, a raindrop streaking across a cold and misty window. He dodged and weaved, cutting down the lashing brambles and the striking spears of thorn that crossed his path. His foes outnumbered him a thousand to one, and he cried out as they scored his wings and flesh, but still he surged ever forward.

The barrier was just ahead of him. With a final spurt of energy he rushed forth, flying parallel to the surface of the void, the Leviathan towering over him. He raised the sword on his right, and—

A sudden hail of bolts closed in on Asriel. He dove down, streaking just over the ground in a desperate attempt to avoid them, but the lances were too fast and he was far too close. He screamed in pain as they sliced his wings, tearing them to shreds. The tattered fragments of light dissolved from his back and he fell to the ground just below him, landing on his feet. Still propelled by the momentum of his flight, Asriel stumbled but managed to break into a roll and recover into a sprint. He charged recklessly at the demonic skull, at the barrier itself, yelling a wordless battlecry. Leaving a blazing rainbow in the wake of his footsteps, Asriel summoned his swords. He raised his right arm and thrust Luna towards the starless sky, drawing on every single drop of strength that he had.

The heavens sprung to life. The sky shimmered in every color imaginable, rippling with energy. Above and behind him, all across the infinite reaches of the barrier, the weft of space bent and gave way to an endless array of gleaming blades. They twinkled and glimmered like stars, by the light of the setting moon and the sun which had just begun to peek over the horizon.

This was it.

Asriel, the Last Prince, led his army in one final charge, roaring victory with every fiber of his being. Power surged through him, into Sol by his side, into Luna held aloft. The blades crackled and sparked with iridescent energy. Asriel took one final step, grasping his swords with his life, and with Luna, he cut forward—

Vines burst out from the barrier, ensnaring Asriel's arms and legs, trapping him where he stood. His arm struggled against its bindings, desperately trying to complete its motion. Asriel cried out in mindless agony as the vines tightened and the thorns dug deeper and deeper into his flesh, piercing into bone. Obsidian pitch seeped from his every wound, clinging to his robes and fur. Above him, brambles emerged from the barrier, one for every sword in the sky. They encircled the blades, smothering them with thorns. The head of the Leviathan looked down upon him and laughed in derision. It raised a tendril to his chest. Asriel shook in fear, all the while trying to wrest himself free before he was met with the inevitable.

But why him?

There was no answer.

The tendril lurched forward, plunging straight into his chest and out through his back before it withdrew. Pain and surprise overwhelmed him and he choked, coughing up the black ichor. His vision blurred with tears as darkness encroached. His body was cold and numb, and his mind slowly drifted away from the torture. The swords hanging in the space above slowly winked out, one by one.

It was warm.

So warm, and comfortable.

He could sleep forever.

Asriel felt himself gradually slip away…

And there, at the very edge of his consciousness, he heard a voice so faint it may as well have been a whisper of a memory of a dream—

"Here goes nothing! GOATBOY!!! CAAAATCHHH!!!"

With the last of his strength, he turned his head to look over his shoulder, and his eyes widened in astonishment—

A burning streak of light, glowing blue and green in equal measure, tearing across the void at an inconceivable speed right at him. It slowed just before it struck his back, the magic dissipating. And then he realized that it was not a spear, but instead—

"F… Frisk?!"

Frisk grabbed his shoulder with her left hand. Cradled in her right, Asriel caught a glimpse of a brilliant red light. The Leviathan snarled, raising another tendril to strike at the new intruder as sound finally caught up to them in an enormous blast of air. Frisk clung to Asriel, slamming the light into his body through the hole in his back. Her grip faltered and she fell to the ground, the stabbing vine barely missing her.

And then, with a sudden clarity of mind, Asriel _understood_.

It was time to move on.

_To my very best friends, thank you._

A burning heat spread through his body, running molten through his veins. For the last and final time, he drew upon all that he had, all that he was.

_To my parents, I love you._

Asriel dropped the sword in his left, letting it dissolve before it hit the ground. He howled as he tore his left arm from the snaring brambles, bringing it up to grasp Luna’s hilt with both hands. Vines assaulted him, lashing and stabbing at his body, trying to pull his hands away from the sword, but still he held firm.

_Goodbye._

Power streamed through his body and into his arms. The sword in his hands flared with energy of all colors, a blazing beacon of light in the darkness. The brambles fell away from him, burning to ashes at his touch.

_May we meet again._

The Leviathan roared in fury. It lunged towards Asriel, its gaping maw ready to swallow him whole. Its talons closed in on Asriel, ready to tear him apart. Its cold, lifeless breath brushed against his fur.

_As old friends._

Asriel roared back in defiance, channeling all of his being into the blade as he burned up from the inside.

_Under the starry skies._

He slashed.

A brilliant, narrow line of white light split the Leviathan’s head straight down the middle. It shrieked, a terrible cacophony that echoed through the void. The incandescent fracture in the barrier grew longer and more pronounced with each passing second.

Then, a blinding radiance burst from the Leviathan, its features sinking back into the ocean of glass. The veil of darkness finally parted, the rising sun on its left, and the setting moon on its right.

Beyond the barrier there was an endless expanse of white. Within it lay a lone golden flower on a small patch of grass. Asriel blinked, and the flower was gone. In its place was a small boss monster with white fur and long, floppy ears, wearing a green and yellow striped shirt. It sat with its back towards him, its head bent over, staring at the grass.

Asriel looked to Frisk behind him, uncertain.

Frisk nodded. “Go, Azzy,” she said weakly, lying on her side. “It’s time to go home.”

He dropped his sword, rushing forward into the break in the barrier.

“Asriel!” he cried out hoarsely. The dark fluid gushed from his wounds, spurting the reddish-black fluid as he ran. “It’s me!”

The little monster slowly turned his head, eyes widening as he saw Asriel stagger towards him.

“P-Please…” Asriel said, panting unevenly. Unable to keep up his run, he limped into the gap in the barrier.

A feral roar once again pierced the heavens and suddenly the breach was narrowing, the ocean collapsing back on itself in a vain attempt to fill what was missing. The light at the end of the tunnel shrank. Asriel tried to dash for it, but his legs gave way and he tripped on his robes. He tried dragging his unresponsive body by his hands towards the light, but did not have the strength. Weakly, he reached out with a trembling hand to the little monster beyond.

It sat there, watching as he struggled.

“I’m sorry…” Asriel whispered. Tears ran down the fur on his cheeks.

The sea closed in on him. He screamed as a stabbing pain engulfed him while he burned from within.

He remembered this feeling once, a long time ago, carrying the lifeless body of his best friend.

Drowning in a sea of knives…

Asriel could see the unrelentingly white void just above him, just slightly out of reach of his outstretched palm. He tried to surface, but his limbs refused to cooperate. Agony and regret coursed through him. He had been so close. So close. If only…

_Help me._

_Someone, anyone, please. Help me._

His vision slowly faded as he let his body drift gently into the bottomless depths…

And then, a small, furry hand grasped his own, pulling on him with all of its strength. He clung on with all he had left.

With one final effort, it yanked him out of the endless sea.

Asriel’s body broke through the surface of the barrier, and he collapsed into the small monster’s lap, coughing and gasping for air. There was a loud noise, like the sound of breaking ice, and he tilted his head to see fractures spread across the barrier from where it had been broken. The small monster leaned over and tapped it with a finger.

And all at once, with a deafening snap, the Barrier splintered into countless glassy shards. They drifted slowly, falling to the ground like petals in a warm breeze.

The little monster picked Asriel up from the featureless white ground, supporting his knees and back with his arms. Asriel smiled to himself. Humans were always the heavy ones, after all.

The monster carried him over to the solitary patch of grass and sat down, letting Asriel lie with his head in his lap. He stroked the fluffy tuft of fur on the top of Asriel’s head, and poked curiously at his horns.

“Hello, Asriel,” Asriel said.

“Hello, Asriel,” the monster replied. Its voice was soft and pitched higher than his own, but still recognizably his.

“How long have you been here?”

“Dunno.” The monster shrugged, fingers idly twirling in Asriel’s fur. “How long have you been there?” he asked, cocking his head at where the barrier once was.

“No idea.” Asriel smiled quietly. “I lost count. Not that it really meant anything, anyway.”

“So did I.”

Asriel fell silent for a little while, watching the petals of glass flutter and twirl in their descent. He realized that he couldn’t really move or feel any of his limbs.

“Do you know what I did?” he asked.

“The fighting bits? Those were pretty cool,” the small monster replied. Despite his praise, his expression remained impassive, a faint frown on his face and his voice a quiet, even monotone. “I was watching. I watched all of it. It was the best part. I always wanted to be as awesome as you were back there, when I grew up.”

“Well, I’m glad I made you happy. But that wasn’t what I meant.”

“Which part then? The bit where you cooked food and served coffee?”

Asriel smirked. Not the most flattering of times. “No, before.”

“Before?”

“Before. Before any of this… recent madness.” Asriel would have waved a hand if he could. “The stuff I did as a flower. Maybe even the stuff I did before I was one.”

“Oh. That stuff.” He played with Asriel’s ear, scratching it. It was quite pleasant, in a way. “I don’t really like thinking about it though. It makes me sad.”

“Well, neither do I. I’d rather forget about it if I could. I’ve spent more time apologizing in the past couple of hours or so than I’ve done in, I dunno, a long time.”

“Erm, so what about it?”

Asriel sighed. Had he always been this dense? “I wanted to say… I’m sorry, Asriel. For everything.”

“Oh.” The small monster fell quiet.

For a while, nobody spoke. The monster's wandering hands stilled, cradling Asriel's ears loosely in his palms. Asriel found it hard to make it out with his blurring vision, but it seemed that his frown had deepened slightly.

“It’s fine,” Asriel said, breaking the silence. “I understand. I wish it never happened in the first place.”

The monster nodded slowly. He lowered Asriel's ears, letting them settle gently in the grass. Asriel sighed. So be it. He closed his eyes, blocking out the glare of the blinding void.

_Thank you, Frisk, for saving me._

He could feel his body shifting, losing form. His mind wandered. There was no more pain now.

This was truly it, then. He let himself relax. A faint smile crossed his face.

It wasn’t so bad, really.

A warm fire on a cold day; the sweet, spicy scent of baking pies; the radio, forever stuck on that one silly tune…

Asriel chuckled weakly.

It had been so long…

“I’m home.”

“Welcome back.”

Asriel was content.

The last vestiges of consciousness left him.

* * *

Asriel opened his eyes. He blinked, the blurry shapes sharpening, coming into focus. There were two goat monsters wearing purple robes and a little human child surrounding him and… some other people off to the side, chatting eagerly amongst themselves. His head hurt. It felt like waking up from the longest dream of his life.

Asriel tried to prop himself up but his arm gave way. The goat monster nearest to him— Mom, he wanted to call her— caught him before he fell, wrapping him in a stifling hug. He could feel her sobbing over his shoulder. He slowly returned the embrace. The fur on his arm caught the twilight sun, a pure pastel orange.

“W…hat happ...end?” he croaked.

“We… are not too sure, my c-child. None of us seem to quite remember. But, the Barrier has been broken, and most important of all, you– you have been s-saved…”

“How…?”

“I do not know. You will have to ask Frisk, some other time. S-Somehow, she was the one who made all of this happen.”

Frisk… Somewhere deep down, he felt like he owed her an enormous debt, but could not quite place his finger on it.

Asriel turned his head to the sunlight streaming in from the archway. “Can… Can I see?”

Toriel smiled. “You may.”

She helped Asriel to his feet and assisted him as he walked to the opening of the cavern. He was slightly taller than she was, he noticed. Asgore— Dad, he wanted to say— and Frisk followed them. Stepping outside, he felt the warmth of the golden sun bathe his fur.

He glanced behind him. The monsters in the cavern hadn’t seemed to notice his awakening. They seemed happy nonetheless, and he would not want to disturb that. Friends. He was happy to see his friends again.

“The sun is marvellous, is it not?” Asgore asked, laying a paw on Asriel’s shoulder. “I have not felt this way in ages. What do you think?”

Asriel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The air was different here, fresher, less heavy. A gentle breeze lapped against his robes. He smiled. “It’s beautiful, Dad.”

Toriel placed a hand around his waist and hugged him against her side. “So it is.”

The four of them watched the ball of flame as it made its way below the horizon.

“Welcome back, son.”

“Welcome back, my child.”

“I’m home.”


	12. Epilogue: My Purest Heart for You

How could he have forgotten all of this?

Asriel opened his eyes.

Still, Frisk lay motionless in the dark of the hospital ward.

He took his palm away from his chest. The red glow had vanished.

How had it all gone so wrong?

Integration was a failure. Asgore called it “a work in progress”, but he knew better than to believe their own propaganda. After all these years, monsters had only ever been able to secure themselves little more than a modicum of tolerance. The Breaking had certainly not helped at all with that, an ever-present axe over their heads. At best, they were treated as a nuisance; at worst, a tool for human politicians to rally against. They had avoided the worst case scenario, he supposed. But still, in the intervening years since monsters had emerged from their mountainous coffin, nothing much had changed for the better.

Frisk was dead. Run away eight years ago, only to return as what was effectively a corpse. Asgore and Toriel had split up again after that. He could remember the constant one-sided arguments and bickering over every little thing. It surprised him that they had even managed to last a year together. He had tried to mend their relationship; he felt obligated to. But in the end, without Frisk, it was ultimately futile.

The Leviathan had returned to haunt him.

How could he have forgotten?

Would things have been different, had he remembered?

Perhaps it would have, perhaps not. The memories had faded, but the sentiments remained.

Why him?

All he ever wanted was a second chance… to be happy… for everyone to be happy…

Tears fell from his cheeks, dotting Frisk’s cold and lifeless arm.

Why did fate have to be so unfair? Why?

He felt a new warmth spread within him, burning like wildfire in his veins. His heart pounded and his chest ached.

If only he had a second chance…

There was a searing pain in his back, an immense pressure building within him.

A second chance…

The thought geminated in him like a seed, sprouting deep, dark tendrils into his heart. They spread from his chest to the rest of his body, tattooing his fur with its sinister curves. The pain built to bursting. He dug his claws into his chest, trying to rip it out. A rich, dark crimson fluid oozed out around his fingers.

Asriel doubled over in his undersized chair. Dark brambles burst from his back, stabbing in all directions— through the back of his chair, through the false ceiling, through the floor, through the walls— and he howled in agony. At the edge of his awareness, he could hear panicked screams. The vines whipped and lashed, tearing apart everything they could find.

Tears streamed down his face. There was no going back now. He tenderly cupped Frisk’s cheeks with a hand, gently pushing aside a strand of hair with a cruel, jet-black talon.

“I—”

_I’m sorry, Frisk._

Asriel RESET—

—tiniest fragment of a soul. ~~Asriel~~ cupped it tenderly with both hands and brought it to his heart. He could feel—

_Wait… something’s wrong..._

— ~~Asriel~~ shifted uncomfortably in his small chair, hands restless—

_It’s not supposed to be like this!_

— ~~Asri██ was~~ content—

—time would wait for no ~~goat. A██iel blearily~~ donned a black gown and slowly shimmied into a plain green apron, careful to avoid catching the shoulder straps on his horns—

_Help me!_

— ~~Finally. █ was so tired of being~~ a flower. Chara, are you—

—the ~~human… ██████ smiled, and walked away~~. Wounded, ~~██████ stumbled home. He~~ entered the castle—

— ~~Over time, ██████ and the human became~~ —

_Someone, anyone!_

* * *

A long time ago, a human fell into the ruins.

Injured by its fall, the human called out for help.

Toriel, the king’s wife, heard the human’s call.

She brought the human back to the castle.

The three of them lived happily together.

The End.

* * *

_Please, help me!_


	13. Afterword: What's Past Is Prologue

The monster snapped the book in his paw shut, letting a puff of pleasantly paper-scented air hit his muzzle. “The End,” he said to the gaggle of children seated on the ground before him.

As he looked up from his book at his enrapt audience, he took note of the single human face mixed in with the rest of the monsters. The staff had told him that the human child was a newcomer to the orphanage, having only arrived a few weeks before the monster’s visit. The child sat on the red rug off to the side, a little distance away from the rest of the children, leaning against the brick wall next to the crackling fireplace. The teddy bear he clutched tightly against his chest was weathered with love and its stomach had been patched up with a small piece of blue cloth that looked as if it might have once been part of a bedsheet.

“More! Tell us another story!” a purple bird-like monster shouted. She flapped her wings excitedly, dislodging a few loose feathers. “Pleaaase, Uncle Dreemurr?”

“Another one?” He scratched the fur on his head, trying to think of a way out of his predicament. “But that’s already the fourth! Aren’t you all tired?”

“‘Course not! It’s not even dinner time yet!”

A few other monsters beside her nodded their assent.

He turned to look over his shoulder at the wall clock above the pastel brown armchair on which he was seated. Five o’clock. So it was… coming to two hours since he had become mired in this endless story marathon. It had seemed like much longer, and his parched throat certainly did him no favors. He reached for the mug of water on the side table by his left, only to find it disappointingly empty.

“Don’t you want to go, er, play, or something?” he said. “I’m sure you all are sick and tired of listening to me.”

“No! Story!” the bird monster shrieked.

Her friends joined her in her pestering, pounding the wooden floor as they chanted. He sighed, standing up from his seat with his mug in hand. Surely he hadn’t been that annoying as a kid… right?

“Where are you going, Uncle Dreemurr?” she asked.

He gestured in the direction of the kitchen with his mug. “I’m, um, just going to get some water.”

“But story after that, right? When you come back? Please please please—”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” he interjected, waving his free hand in what he hoped was a calming gesture. “I’ll think about it. Just gimme a sec.” He made his way to the left and out of the common room before the children had time to launch another offensive.

He had barely made it a couple of steps into the corridor connecting to the kitchen and the other rooms of the orphanage when he heard a loud bang. "Oh, come on," he muttered, "what now?"

He poked his head back into the common room. A wooden chair had been toppled and the children were playing tag around it.

"Hey, put that back," he snapped, "and sit down and behave, or there's definitely not gonna be any story for you."

Much to his relief, the children did as they were told, albeit with a couple of reluctant pouts here and there. Once they had settled down, he made his way back to the kitchen and made himself a mug of hot tea using what little water there was left in the kettle. He leaned against the wall and sipped, staring out the window.

The snow fell heavily outside, blanketing the quiet neighborhood in an unbroken calm. The orphanage was positioned squarely in the middle of the residential district, but he could barely make out the wood-picket fence lining the grounds, let alone the side of the neighbor’s house. He swilled the tea in his cup and sighed as the dregs settled. How had it come to this?

He smiled to the swirling leaves. Only himself to blame, after all. One day, he might find the closure he so desperately wanted, but in the meantime, there were worse fates to be had than to attend to a bunch of obnoxious screaming children.

It had been too chilly of a day to have the little devils offloaded into the small playground outside for a snowball fight. Since the afternoon, the storm outside had been picking up in strength, and the roads had to be iced over by now. At this rate, he was bound to be arriving late. Perhaps another story would not hurt. The monster took another sip as he walked back to face his fate.

“Story now, Uncle Dreemurr?” the bird monster asked as soon as he set foot in the common room.

“Fine, you win,” he said.

The children cheered, and he waggled a finger at them.

“One more story. And only if you all promise to keep yourselves in check. Or I’ll… um… something…?”

“We promise!”

He returned to his seat and retrieved the book from the coffee table beside him, flipping to a page at random. Frisk had picked out the book of short stories for him and, to her credit, the tales had been rather enjoyable even by adult standards. _The Tenfold Targe_? That sounded interesting enough. He cleared his throat and the children scattered on the carpeted floor perked up, even the sole human child who had been keeping to himself by the fireside with his stuffed confidante. Poor thing probably needed someone to talk to. Perhaps after the story. For now, the monster tried to refocus his attention on the words before him, but even as the first lines left his mouth his mind had already begun to wander.

“Once upon a time…”

The snowstorm blew, lashing over and over against the window in thick sheets as he read. But inside, the fire danced unperturbed, casting a merriment of shadows onto the walls of the orphanage. The children clung to his every word, and on the two occasions he left to refill his rapidly draining mug, they might as well have been holding their breath.

“The End,” the monster said for the fifth time today, his voice hoarse. His hand had only made it halfway to the stone-cold mug of tea resting on the coffee table when he heard the fated words once more.

“Tell us another one! Again, Mister Dreemurr!”

“Pleaaase, gimme a break.” He absent-mindedly upended the cup over his mouth to reach the last bitter dregs and was instantly rewarded with a wet tea bag to the snout. One careless intake of breath later and he snorted the bag back into the cup in a fit of uncontrollable hacking. “Look, I can’t think right anymore,” he choked out as peals of laughter sounded throughout the orphanage.

There was still nobody to be seen through the violent snowstorm, but that mattered little at this point. He picked up the book from his lap with his free hand and snapped it shut with as much finality as he could manage.

“It’s my last story,” he said, cutting through the squeals of bemusement, “and you all promised that too—”

“Did not!”

“Did too.” He turned his nose up at them and stuck out his tongue. Dignity was the delusion of the weak and gullible, and in this war, there would be no prisoners.

“You made that up!” The annoying bird monster shrieked, thumping the floor to accent her words.

He slowly set the mug back onto the table. “Well, I guess that’s that. Why don’t you all go find—”

His gaze wandered over to the lone human in the room. “Why don’t you—” he began again. The human looked up, locking eyes with him for a moment. His sentence dried up on his tongue.

The little boy broke away, resting his head on the teddy bear tucked between his chin and neck.

“Why…” The monster licked his lips and swallowed. “Why don’t you lot find somewhere comfortable to sit? I suppose I could manage one more. Wouldn’t hurt.”

The rest of the children burst out in cheers, but the little boy only curled up with his legs to his chest, sandwiching the hapless animal.

“Okay, what about…” The monster opened the book once more, his gaze resting squarely on the human. He frowned, stifling a sigh. “Alright, let’s do this one. Once upon—”

The door rattled, and then it creaked open just a fraction, letting in what felt like an impossibly cold gust. A leg squeezed its way through the opening, and then an arm, and then—

“AZZY!” The kids jumped up and crowded around the new arrival, tugging at his jeans.

“Hey now, hey now,” Asriel said. “There’ll be enough for everyone.” He patted a few of the bobbing heads surrounding him with his free left paw, gently parting the variegated sea of fur and feather as he made his way across the room to the kitchen. In his right hung a plain green bag by the straps, above the reach of the waves. The fragrant smell of warm meats and vegetables wafted from the closed zipper. “Everyone, go wash your hands and get ready for dinner, okay?”

“Okay!” the children replied, streaming out of the common room, eager to be the first to lay their hands on the prize.

“So,” the monster said, still lounging in his chair after Asriel made it back from the kitchen, “Mister Prince Charming returns.”

Asriel chuckled, resting his weight on the fireplace. “Sorry for being late. It’s next to impossible to drive in this weather.” He turned his attention to the last few children leaving the room. “Seems like you’ve got it under control, though.”

“Under control?” The monster wrung his paws. “Does it really look like I’ve got it under control? I was _this_ close to dying of thirst and I don’t even have life insurance yet!”

“Sounds like you did alright then, especially for your first day.” Asriel smiled warmly.

“It’s awful.”

“Guess that means you’ll be back again next week?”

He sighed. “Sure, yeah. I asked for it, I’ll manage.”

“Excellent!” Asriel clapped his hands together. “Glad that we’ll be seeing you again.”

“I’m living on your couch. You get to see me every day.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Thanks.” The monster’s wry grin fell as he looked up at Asriel. “I really appreciate it, you know. You didn’t have to at all.”

“Nonsense. I wouldn’t turn you down in a million years. Mom and Dad would never, either. None of us would.”

“Still, I feel like I should at least—”

Asriel held up a finger. “Perish that thought. You don’t owe us anything. You’re family too, as much as I am, regardless of the circumstances.”

“Well, I guess you’re right.” The monster let out another sigh and closed his eyes. He could smell their imminent dinner just lurking around the corner, but… something was missing. “Did they have one with the funny black sauce I told you about?”

“Blech.” Asriel stuck out his tongue. “No, of course not. That’s an awful idea. It’s pizza, for god’s sake.”

“And here I thought we’d established that I was the one with the better taste.”

“More like the other way,” Asriel said, waggling his finger. “And don’t tell me it’s because I don’t appreciate good food.”

The monster shrugged. “Don’t knock it until you try it. How’d you manage to keep it so warm anyway?”

“Well, some good insulation,” Asriel said, holding up the bag, “and…”

“And?”

He summoned a tiny flame in the center of his outstretched paw. “Well, I cheated a little.”

The corner of the monster’s muzzle curled. “Oh, right. I forget sometimes.”

“U-Uncle Dreemurr?” The human child was standing in the middle of the common room exit, still hugging his bear.

“Yes?” the monster replied.

“I-I wanted to say I r-really l-liked your stories, Mister D-Dreemurr.”

He smiled. “Thanks. That makes me very happy.”

“W-Will you be coming again n-next week?”

He turned to Asriel, who nodded. “Yup. I’ll be here. Same time, same place.”

The child’s arms tightened around the bear. “Mister D-Dreemurr, could y-y-y—” He stumbled over his own words. The little boy was trembling from head to toe, clinging on to both his teddy bear and the wooden door frame for support as the monster looked him over.

The monster cleared his throat. “What’s your name?” he asked gently.

“J-Jacob. S-Sir.”

“May I be your friend, Jacob?”

The child wavered, biting his teeth, before scampering up to the chair where the monster was seated and gave his legs a quick bear-assisted hug. He buried his face in the stuffed animal and ran out of the room.

Asriel gave the monster a pat on the shoulder. “Golly, you’re a natural. Knew you had it in you.”

He stood up and shot back a half-smile. “Haha. I wish. Anyway,” he said, brushing down his t-shirt, “I’ve got some stuff to handle back at home. When do I have to be back by?”

“Come pick me up at around nine or ten or so. I’ll need a bit of time to handle some admin stuff after the kids go to sleep. I’ll call you when I’m ready.” Asriel tossed him a keyring. “See you around, Uncle Dreemurr.”

The monster rolled his eyes at Asriel as he opened the front door. “Not you too.”

“You think you’ll ever tell them?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I bought enough pizza for one more.”

“Nah, I’m good.” The monster waved, stepping out into the cold winter’s night. “Knock yourselves out.”

“I can’t help but be a little curious too, you know. I'm sure you haven't told me everything.”

“That,” the monster said, smiling, “is a story for another time.”

Asriel waved back as the door shut, smiling quietly to himself.

“No rush, my friend,” he whispered. “We have all the time in the world.”

**Author's Note:**

> My greatest thanks goes to [Gote_Herder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gote_Herder/pseuds/Gote_Herder) not only for their edits, but for being a HUGE motivation for me to see this through. Without them, this project might not have seen the light of day, and I am eternally grateful for their support. Please check out their series for more gote and fish canon divergence action, [Ashes and Dust](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26590165/chapters/64829701).
> 
> I would also like to sincerely thank [Spark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakaiWolf) for their invaluable edits, assistance and advice throughout the entire writing process. Please do check out their work [PATCHWORK SOUL](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20080444/chapters/47558302) if you would be so inclined.  
> "Spacegote is a cool bean, thanks for reading the story." - Spark (2020)
> 
> Finally, I would also like to thank [The Fanfic Paradise Discord](https://discord.gg/sXVXy7w) for having me and everyone in the server for being awesome.
> 
> For everyone who has come this far, thank you for coming on this ride with me.
> 
> Goodnight.


End file.
